Baa Baa Black Sheep
by AlienaCooper
Summary: A teenaged woman, best friends with Mary, comes to stay with the Hargreaves, and once again life becomes rather more interesting yet again and then Delilah get's involved... clearer summer inside! please read and review
1. Prologue

Summery: the girl, if one could call her a girl, with ever changing eyes, ever changing attitude and ever changing accent, was a friend of Mary's. So when Mary begged her older friend, Lady Dylan Sedgewell to come and stay with them, Cain could hardly say no. That was when things start to get interesting... not only between Cain and Dylan, but Delilah catches the whiff of this off the rails young lady with the most and unusual contacts for that of the upper class, they simply cannot let the chance pass them by... especially when Jizabel is thrown into closer quarters with Dylan...

Her short hair was ebony, while her eyes were the mirror image of the sea, shifting between royal blue and deep green. Her build was slight and small. Her fingers dainty, her hands gentle. She wore a wine red dress, decorated quite simply with black lace. She was indeed a pretty little thing, were her eyes slightly lowered as men spoke to her. Her voice was soft, her vocabulary vast and her interests un ending. She was by no means a half wit, but she held back enough of her own knowledge to allow men the illusion that they still knew more than this exotic creature.

Lady Dylan Nymphadora Sedgewell. Although technically the illegitimate child of her father, his wife, Lily Sedgewell took a liking to the girl the moment she saw her, when Dylan was not yet three. She insisted they adopt the girl formally into their lives, away from the slums. Lily's love for the young girl was genuine, and always would be. But Dylan was a black sheep the moment she entered the family.

She had a will of her own, and would not stay on the respectable side of town at all unless requested to a dinner. She kept this expeditions to herself to save her family scandal, and she was clever enough to cover her tracks. Only maybe four of the servants knew of them, and each were loyal to her.

Of coarse the young Cain Hargearves had no idea of the young woman's true past, only the fact that she was engaging in conversation and a tipped catch for any man who felt worth of her later in life.

Yet she seemed to show no interest in any male there. She talked, smiled, maybe even flirted a little; but nothing out of the ordinary.

Mary-Weather came bounding up to the older woman quite contentedly.

"Hello Dylan!" she chirped happily, looking up at her.

Dylan's face lit up as her shifting eyes landed on her favourite young friend.

"Mary!" she cried, pulling the girl into a tight hug.

Their relationship was an odd one. Both girls were the illegitimate children of their father's and adopted into the family out of kindness and love. Both girls had seen far too much in life to be considered innocent any more, yet both of them hid it well. Further more, the first time the two met, were in the slums. At the time Mary did not know Dylan was a lady and herself had not been found by her beloved brother.

But Mary still kept Dylan's secret. Even from her brother, Cain. Until she felt it was right to tell him of coarse.

Dylan looked up at the startled man who had been engaging her in conversation.

"If you please, sir," she said, softly, smiling a little, "it has been so long since I have seen Mary, please excuse you." She bowed her head slightly, and moved on with Mary, both holding onto each other's hands.

They settled themselves under a tree, to speak more privately.

It was then and only then did Dylan relax enough to be herself.

"Dear Gawd," she said lightly, her arms wound round the little blonde girl, "this pompous geets really need ter tone daan I swear!" Her normal accent was a mix between upper class and cockney. Though Lady Lily had taken Dylan away from that world, Dylan was very aware of where she had come from and visited there repeatedly.

Mary laughed. "You're an actress!" Mary's accent had been ironed out by governess after governess. Though she intimidated them all, they all had some sort of impact on her studies. "You're never up front with these people."

Dylan let an ugly scowl cover her pretty features. "They're all bloody acters," she said dismissive, "at leas' I don' act all mah life."

Mary grinned. Dylan had only gotten the hang of faking her life in front of her parents when she turned twelve. Now nearly seventeen, it was a perfect charade. Not even Cain could tell anything about her, and Mary prided Cain on being the best unofficial detective in the world.

The two girls spoke for a little longer, there was little of six years between them, but there was almost no one else they felt more comfortable around.

It was only when Dylan had calmed and Mary was sleepy did an interruption came.

A cough from beside them.

Dylan looked up lazily. She knew when the person had arrived and was not worried if she had been over heard. Over the years her hearing had become more and more acute.

"Lady Dylan," said the young male, not much older than her. His glorious black hair was pitch enough to rival her own.

"My lord Cain," she replied, her upper crust accent back in full force. Mary stirred in her lap, she had dozed slightly as Dylan had played with her lovely golden locks.

"I believe you have spirited away my sister," he said, kindly.

Inside Dylan felt like smacking this impertinent man for being so patronising. But she said nothing and allowed a fluttering of a smile to cross her face. "I believe I have," she admittedly lightly, "might I keep her a while longer? Or must you be off home?"

Cain studied the girl. There was something strange about her. She spoke the the tongue of an upper class girl, she sat with her knees bent slightly just as any girl of her sort would while sitting on the floor and she had the same reserved respect for men that all her type had. Yet she seemed almost uncomfortable with it. But as he had no real proof, he dismissed the feeling.

To him Lady Dylan Sedgewell was a simple air head, like all the other's he had met and yet to meet. Pretty, well taught, but nothing of substance.

"Unfortunately, my lady, we must be off," he smiled kindly at her, again something flashed in those ever changing eyes, but it was gone the same moment it appeared, "I must thank you though for entertaining my sister."

Dylan chuckled, it was the first genuine emotion she had portrayed. "my pleasure, sir," she smiled, "Mary is a good friend of mine, I enjoy every minute with her." She looked down at the little girl happily as she did the same to Dylan. They grinned at each other as Mary sat up.

"Dylan please come visit us soon," begged Mary, "you've never come to the mansion!"

"That's because I've never been invited, luv," Cain caught the slight slip up, but thought he had misheard, and as she continued speaking, thought it less and less likely. "Besides I would not wish to get in yours or your brother's way."

Cain saw his sister's face fall. "You wouldn't be in the way at all!" said the young man, Dylan looked up at him suddenly, "we would love to have you."

"A- are you sure?" stammered Dylan, quite taken aback. Surely he knew of her black sheep reputation. They both shared such an unwanted label, surely it would cast doubt upon them both. Then again, it would not show on him, only against herself. That she did not mind at all.

"Of coarse I'm sure," said Cain, "any friend of Mary-Weather is a friend welcome to the estates."

Dylan was so glad he hadn't said "a friend of mine" she would never be a friend of Cain Hargreaves.

"Oh please do come!" begged Mary, tugging Dylan's attention away from Cain, "it'll be so much fun. It gets so lonely in the mansions…"

"Only because all the servants are scared of you," teased Cain.

Mary stuck her tongue out at her big brother, and tossed her pretty hair. "They don't have a back bone," she dismissed, she turned her attention back to Dylan. "Please!" begged the little blonde girl, "we would have so much fun!"

A flicker of something deliciously evil skipped through her eyes and features as Dylan looked back at the girl, as though her thoughts were 'you have no idea what my sort of fun is'. This time Cain could not dismiss it. Dylan was hiding something, and having been so involved with Delilah, he had to make sure she was not one of them.

"You must come, my lady," Cain chimed in, holding out a hand for her to take, "I insist."

Dylan looked at him, and ignored his hand. She got up herself, much to Cain's surprise, then helped Mary to her feet. She turned back to the older Hargreave.

"If you both must put it that way," she smiled at them both, "I would of

coarse be delighted to visit. But bare in mind you must talk to my father first," this was directed at Mary, "I cannot very well leave him with only my word of where I am going."

Mary sighed. Though Dylan's label allowed them to be close friends, it did pose the problem that her father did seem to watch her moves quite closely.

"I shall speak with Lord Sedgewell," Cain said, as Mary looked miserable, "surely he will not turn down a direct invitation."

"You do not know my father," chuckled Dylan, she held her hand to Mary, "come Mary, let's see your brother weave his magic over my darling parent."

Again there was that moment of mischievousness glittering in her eyes, that died away immediately.

'She's good,' thought Cain mildly, 'very good actress, very good at suppressing what she feels. But she can't hide her heart… her eyes give her away a little too much. Give her another year and she will have conquered that too.' He smiled to himself as he offered Dylan his arm. From what he had noted about her, this would have annoyed her, but she would have to cover it up.

If did annoy her, she covered it up extremely well. She took his arm, smiled prettily, and kept a seemingly loose hold on Mary's hand. The little blonde girl felt Dylan squeeze her hand slightly, and knew it was out of annoyance. She resolved to tell Cain off when they got home, her brother should know better.

As Dylan approached her father, Cain tried to spot any similarities between father and daughter.

Lord Alfred Sedgewell was an imposing man. Solidly built, not unlike a solid brick wall. He was wide, muscular, with black hair and brown eyes. His face looked as though it had been chiselled out of marble. He didn't look all that old, despite the grey gathering at his temples.

Beside him, his little petite blonde wife stood in her wonderful white dress. She was stunning, pretty small, rose bud mouth, a small snubbed nose and wide blue eyes. Her skin was translucent and flawless and her smile bright and happy. The goodness of her heart radiated from her.

Lily Sedgewell spotted Cain and Dylan first. The eyes of the two females met, and both brother and sister felt the girl between them relax. A genuine smile spread across her face as Lily positively beamed at her. The little blonde woman touched Lord Sedgewell's arm and pointed them out as they drew closer.

"Dylan," Lily greeted her stepdaughter, quite happily, hugging her, and kissing her cheeks, "I wandered where you had gotten to."

"Don't worry, mamma," she replied, Mary was surprised to hear such a real tone from her sarcastic friend, clearly she liked this woman, "I was catching up with young Mary-Weather. She introduced me to her brother, the Earl of Hargreaves."

"Cain Hargreaves?" asked Lily surprised, she looked up at the young man, studying his face, she smiled gently, "well my lord, you most certainly surpass any expectations I had of you."

"Sorry?" asked Cain, he didn't like the fact that people knew him before he knew them.

"I have heard many stories of you, though admittedly not all are… uh…" she blushed, and glanced at her husband, who still said nothing to them, "flattering. But you appear to be the most amiable of gentlemen."

Dylan smiled gratefully. "I'm glad you think so, mamma," she said quietly, "miss Mary has invited me to stay with them at the Hargreaves estate."

"For how long?" asked her mother.

She opened her mouth to reply, but Cain got there first.

"She is welcome for as long as you can be away from her for," he said, sounding royal, "it would be good for my sister to have a friend a while, I've had so much to do recently, I've hardly paid her any attention."

Lily studied the young man before. She wasn't sure if she knew his type. He could either be completely genuine about his sister, or he simply wanted Dylan for himself.

The older woman glanced at Mary, who was looking up at her pleadingly with her huge blue eyes. How could Lily say no?!

"I'll ask my husband," she consented. She turned to Lord Alfred, "Alfred?"

"Yes?" he said, nodding his dismissal to the man he had been speaking to, "Dylan as been invited to stay with with the Hargreaves a while."

"A while?" asked the lord, "how long, pray tell, is a while."

"A fortnight," said Lily, firmly, meeting her husbands eyes, equal parts firm, pleading and blackmailing, "Dylan needs a break from her brothers and sisters, she has had to play governess to the youngest for far too long. This may encourage me to find one faster for them." She looked at Dylan and smiled, "I do rely on you far too much," she admitted.

Dylan blushed hotly, and murmured about how it she was happy to oblige. After all, it had been Lily's idea to take her in, she owned her stepmother a lot. Yet she never seemed to take advantage of it.

Sedgewell studied Cain closely for a moment. "Very well, Earl, I place you in charge of my daughter's well being," his voice dropped to a low growl, "and I expect her back in one piece."

Anyone watching would have thought this to be an almost touching gesture to his daughter, but by the look on Dylan's face, she knew otherwise. The scowl was momentary, but she let it past.

"Very well, my lord," he said, with a bow and a smile, "I shall collect lady Dylan myself in three days time. Good bye sir." He bent his neck to lord Sedgewell.

He took his hat and bowed at the waist to Lady Sedgewell, "wanderful to meet you, my lady," he said, his tone could only be described as friendly.

And to Lady Dylan he had his hat removed, a bow at his hips and he lifted her hand to his face and brushed her knuckles with his lips. As he raised his eyes to meet hers, he was surpised to see her with a slightly rised eye brow and smirk.

"It was a pleasure making you aquaintance," he said, straightening, not letting go of her hand just yet, "I look foreward to your stay in the mansion."

"As do I, my young Earl," she responded, with a smile and the slightest of cursies.

With a final nod at those standing around and a shared hug between Mary and Dylan, the Hargreave siblings took their leave.

It wasn't till they sat in their carriage did Cain say anything to his sister.

"My my, Mary-Weather," he had a smirk playing about his lips, "what an interesting friend you have."

Mary smiled, mischieviously. "Oh my darling big brother, you do not know the half of it."

Cain leaned back, glancing at the ever shadowing Riff. Riff had not been present during the meeting of Dylan Sedgewell, he had excused himself for reasons that no human could deny. But he had heard enough to know who they were talking about. The servants talked about Dylan Sedgewell, all quite fondly, but the same thing was consisant. The only person in her house who loved or cared about her was not one who was related by blood; Lily Sedgewell. No one quite understood why, but it was a blessing for the child.

Of coarse they all knew that Dylan was born out of wedlock, that was no secret. But that had been rectified when she had been formally adoted.

The servants also had small tidbits of knowledge. About how she never seemed to stay put, how they could hardly ever know where she was. How she could interact so welll with the upper crust, and still be able to go down and help out and relax with the kitchen skivvies.

"Mary you must be careful of these types-" started Cain, but Mary waved him away.

"No Cain, not with her. She is as my sister, I've known her all my life. She was here before you knew of my existance." She smiled. "You should be grateful to her, without her, there was many a time where I may have died… or worse…"

"How can that be?" demanded Cain, "she is no older than I!"

"Yes… but she too was born in the slums of London," Mary wagged her fingers, "she never forgot who her mother was, and would visit her grandmother often. She isn't any old lady, Cain, she's Dylan Sedgewell."

Cain had had half a mind to tell her that he knew that. But kept his mouth shut. He understood Mary perfectly. This Dylan Sedgewell… there was far more to her than met the eye. He intended to uncover more in the fornight that she was to stay.


	2. Mysteries and Perception

Note: i have had no reviews [ plz guys- i like 2 know wat u think, even if it is a flame!!! plz review it!!!! id love 2 no wat u think, how i cud make it more interesting... hey- u guys need 2 tell me wat u perhaps want 2 happen in the story- my story like for this FF is very liquid at the moment, so it can tip any which way right now. i just REALLY want to know what people are thinking

another note: Please check out The Hogwarts Heirs if you like my writing i dnt think it's as good, so ill probably get alot of flames for it- bt its fun riting it XD

chapter 2: Mysteries and Perception

Dylan was dressed and ready when Cain walked into the dining room three days later. Her stepmother was visiting some family, and taken her siblings with her, while her father was at some sort of society meeting.

She was dressed far more casually this time round, though she still looked somewhat uncomfortable. Her dress was a light blue, with white trimmings and her hair was plated back, away from her face. As usual, she looked stunning.

"Please sit down, my lord Hargreaves," she said stiffly, rising.

"Then you must not stand," he replied, coming round the table, lifting an almost dainty hand to his lips.

He shocked to see her hands were not as smooth as he had first perceived. They were pited with small scars and the calluses of work. But he allowed his observation to go unnoticed.

She sat and smiled at him, "please do what something to eat. I always must eat in the mornings, I fear I would faint if I did not."

There was something oddly stiff about her formal speech that should have come far more naturally to someone of her birth.

"No no," he dismissed, "I have already eaten. But please, do eat yourself. I hardly know what to do if a woman such as yourself passed out in my presence."

She smiled, and began eating again, but he could have sworn her heard her mutter in a positively cockney accent "sure ya don' luv" but her lips barely moved and the comment could have been a whispering breeze, had they not been within the confides of a house.

She finished off her meal, and to Cain's utter bewilderment, she picked up her own dishes, and cups and carried them from the room. Curious he followed her.

"I am just taking these down to the kitchen," she said, noticing his measured footsteps, "I shall only be a moment."

Confused, Cain went back to sit down. If Dylan still had secrets up her sleeves, this one truly prepared him for her being very odd. No lady in her right mind would help her servants, let alone clear after herself.

He heard her very slight heels coming back to the room again, he stood again, respectfully.

"Shall we go?" she asked, smiling at him, she linked her fingers in her front, her eyes meeting his squarely.

He noted momentarily that her eyes seemed to be particularly green that day, but very much unlike his own. He crocked his arm towards her, and graciously she took it. Again he felt stiffness that he was unaccustomed to when a lady did such a natural action. Mary was indeed right. His curiosity was well and truly lit.

"What of you bags, Lady Dylan?"

Dylan briefly closed her eyes, and then opened them again; she stopped and looked up at Cain. "My Earl Hargreaves," she said, sounding almost angry, "I am to stay with you for a fortnight, I will not have my host refer to me as 'Lady Dylan'. My name is Dylan Sedgewell, you will call me Dylan."

"Dylan…" Cain tried the name on it's own, it felt strange. The creature on his arm was a regal figure, and one where the title of Lady came quite easily. But at the same time, it felt far more comfortable. "Very well Dylan," Cain inclined his head, "what of your bags?"

Dylan smiled briefly and began walking again, Cain following her. "Luke took them out," she said, easily, "your butler… what was his name…?" she paused her speech for a moment as they passed through the atrium towards the front doors. Her cheeks went slightly pink, from embarrassment, "oh dear… I had better ask him… well, your butler helped him load them up."

"You trust your servants not to take anything?"

To his surprised, Cain felt her grip on his arm tighten slightly, then release as though she had caught herself in time. "Of coarse. I trust them with my life, physical and spiritual. How can one have a servant they do not trust?"

Cain was again surprised by her serenity. 'Well said my lady,' he thought, 'very well said…'

The passed through the front door where they were greeted by a young stable boy. He could not have been older than perhaps eleven or twelve, but by the expression on his face, he and Dylan were well acquainted.

"Yer bags are packed, miss," he said, a very thorough cockney accent deforming his words.

"Thank you, Mark," she said, beaming at him, "don't forget to feed Mitzy."

"Tha' ol' girl won' le' me miss," he said, rolling his eyes.

Dylan laughed. "How well I've taught her," she joked, then became serious, "and don't you dare try to provoke master Sebastian… I know what he's like when I'm away. I'm not entirely stupid. Don't give him any reason to trouble you."

"Gotcha miss," said Mark, looking very humble indeed, "you 'ave a good time now miss, tell miss Mary I tell 'er hey."

Dylan rolled her eyes in return, "you'd tell her yourself if you were coming."

Mark became solemn, "but Cassie needs me here. You c'n look afta yerself, we know it."

Dylan laughed again, and reached out to ruffle his hair. "Get going scamp," she grinned, "tell Cass bye from me and sorry I didn't stay to say it myself."

Mark nodded, bowed at the waist to Cain and ran off quickly in the other direction.

All the while Cain had kept quiet, realising again there was far more too lady Dylan than he had first thought. How many ladies did he know that would wish their stable boy good bye and be on such good terms with him?

He helped her into the carriage, but she lent on him so little, he suspected that she didn't need her help at all, and followed her soon after.

As he sat he heard her speaking to Riff.

"I am so sorry," she said pleasantly, "I have completely forgotten your name. Please tell me again, I promise I won't forget."

She sounded almost childish, and her sincerity was to be reckoned with. Riff sounded so surprised to appear to be higher in status between them. He was far too used to Cain telling him what to do to be comfortable with Dylan smiling up at him, asking him cautiously what his name was.

"Riffael," he said, calmly, nodding modestly towards her, "Riff to all at the Hargreaves' estates."

The carriage moved off, rocking them slightly, the gravel crunching beneath the wheels.

"Riff…" Dylan said the name to herself, delicately, then she grinned at him again, her slightly off centre teeth pearly white in the dimness, "I'm Dylan. I hope I won't be too much bother while I stay."

Riff glanced at Cain for a moment. "I'm sure you won't, my lady," he said respectfully.

Dylan frowned, slightly. "Riff, I would be most honoured if you did not call me lady, I am slum born- and still not used to the ways of the upper class. Please, call me Dylan. I am far more comfortable with that title than the one my step-mother gave to me."

Again, surprised shot through both men in the carriage. They glanced at each other, before Cain looked out the window and Riff looked back to Dylan. "Of coarse my- uh… Dylan."

"Thank you Riff," she said softly, and turned her attention to the book now in her lap. Cain hadn't even noticed her bring it on, then noted she had picked it up from beside her, he reason one of her servants had brought it on for her.

He glanced at the title, and was surprised to see it to be a Machiavellian book, a play called 'The Prince'. Again he was surprised. Few ladies took an interest in philosophy, let alone the depressing theories by Machiavelli. All about hierarchy and government; how corrupt they both are.

He studied the sharp face, with her dark hair and brows, long thick eyelashes, framing the constantly changing eyes.

'How many more…?' the earl wandered, quietly, looking back out the window, out onto the streets of London, 'how many more surprised will you have in store for me, pretty, strange girl…? How many secrets will you reveal to me…'

They arrived at the estate a few hours later. They had made several stops, but only because Cain had a few house hold errands to run. Otherwise the journey had gone smoothly. Cain almost forgot that Dylan was in the carriage with them, she had kept so quiet. Reading her political and philosophical book. Occasionally she would make a sound that he could not decide if she was happy or angry about a comment made in the book.

By mid afternoon they had arrived back at the estates.

"Welcome to the Hargreave Mansion," said Cain, opening the door for her. He made a move to get out before her, but she got there first, practically bounding off the carriage, looking up. Her mouth was slightly open as she gazed upwards.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, looking up.

"My family home," Cain replied.

Dylan looked at him sharply. Oddly enough he didn't sound happy about it. She ignored the tone, and decided to carry on with the almost air-headed charade she was so good at. But at the same time she wanted to bring her bags in.

Lucky for her, she was interrupted with a squeal, and a small light body jumped into her arms, knocking them both to the floor.

She laughed as she hugged Mary back. "C'mon you goose!" she said, voice muffled, "let me up! You're squashing me."

Mary got up, and stood quickly, so as not to dirty her dress and further. Much to their surprised, even his own, Riff was the one helping her to her feet again. Taking her gently by the arms and lifting her to a standing position. She wobbled momentarily, then gained her balance.

"Thank you, Riff," she said, happily, bowing her own head towards him lowering her eyes.

Riff said nothing, but bowed at the waist, and left to take care of the bags. Dylan took half a step forewords to help, then changed her mind and turned her attention to Mary.

"So… Mary…" she said slowly, "What do you propose we do first?"

He watched after his sister and her friend, frowning to himself.

There was a wicked glint to Mary's eyes as she took a firm hold of Dylan's hand and pulled her along towards the house, talking about nothing in particular. Evidently Dylan understood, but Cain simply could not comprehend what the females were saying to one another.

"Riff," he called.

"Yes, my lord," came the quick answer.

"How much do you think you could find out about the Sedgewell family?"

Riff blinked in surprise. "There's quite a lot to know, sir, and much of it I know already."

Cain looked up at Riff. The butler knew that look all too well. "Come Riff, tell me all you know." He started walking towards the house; Riff following close by, the servants collecting the few bags that Dylan had brought.

"Alfred Sedgewell is a business man, dealing in housing and hosting events. He makes a lot of money that way. The family is from old money, so he has no need for work."

"Yet he still does."

"It is many of the household's belief that he does it simply to be busy and get out of the house."

"What of Lily Sedgewell?"

"Noble family, not all that rich. Her father clawed his way up from his own father's ruin and made a name for himself quite easily." Riff paused. "Lady Lily Sedgewell is Lord Sedgewell's first and only wife. But Dylan Sedgewell is not her daughter."

"As is well known, she was adopted."

"She was the illegitimate child of lord Alfred with an old servant, who left just before she found herself pregnant. Lord Sedgewell was not aware of Dylan's existence till she was little over one years old, and living with her grandmother. Her own mother died of small pox when Dylan was six months."

"This you learned from Mary, I take it."

Riff blushed slightly. "I wished to learn a little of Lady Dylan's past, seeing as she will be staying for a while."

"Anything else?"

"Lily Sedgewell was the one who opted to adopt her, when Dylan was three. Ever since she has lived as a Lady of the house." Riff trailed off. There was something troubling him. Cain caught the pause, and looked straight at Riff.

"Dylan's used as a governess in that house, and she is so voluntarily. She looks after her siblings almost better than any sister- she's almost a mother to them. But at the same time, there are periods of time where her locations do not add up, according to many of the servants. When I spoke to the little Stable boy… Mark, he became very defensive. She has an odd relationship with her servant, lord Cain… and a very strange life. There are things that truly do not add up."

"Things Mary probably knows," Cain murmured to himself softly, "considering she took my little sister under her wing before I was aware of her existence."

A look of almost jealous crossed his aristocratic features. He now almost resented Dylan thinking about it. She was close to his sister, and had known her for the time that _he _should have known her. It simply was not right that one of no blood relation to her should have taken her so fully under her wing.

"My lord Cain?" came Riff's voice. Cain looked up at him, "do you wish to enter the house?"

Cain looked up, the door was opened, and he was glaring at the carpeted floor. Riff's face was as impassive as ever, but there was a twinkle in his eye. Just the slightest one.

"Yes, Riff, I do," Cain said, walking into the house, hearing a shriek of laughter from upstairs, and thumping of feet on the door. He looked up, seeing Mary rushing after Dylan who had hold of a teddy of the little girl's.

Cain frowned as Dylan turned around, skipping backwards mockingly, her hair was out loose and flying around, her eyes were alight and happy, her mouth was turned up into a beautiful, proper grin.

Cain scowled. Who was the girl? What was she doing? How did her mind work? Cain both loved and loathed mysteries. But in this case, he had the feeling that this mystery was not going to be easy.


	3. A Secret Keeper

A/N: thank you to ryderion who is mi first ever reviewer this chapter's dedicated 2 u enjoy folks!!!!

A Secret Keeper

Over that next week, Cain saw almost nothing of Dylan. She seemed to almost avoid him. He saw her for perhaps a few moments in the morning, but she seemed to wake with the birds, and come down to eat.

The strangest thing was, again she insisted on helping to clean up, and she did not appear again after she had taken her dishes and cutlery down to the kitchens. It turned out that she would often help the cook with anything that needed doing, and the cook used the young lady's evident talent to quicken the pace that cook was brought up.

According to Riff, the servants had taken an immediate liking to Dylan, that she seemed to talk to them all when she could, and had already struck up several friendships amongst them.

At the same time, the evenings that Dylan went to bed earlier than usual and Mary and Cain spoke, it became apparent that Mary did love Dylan a lot. Not the same way she adored her older brother, but she certainly did love the girl an immense amount.

"How did you meet Dylan?" asked Cain, it was exactly a week since Dylan had come to stay with them, and she, Mary, Cain and Riff were in the centre of London. Dylan was looking at flowers that a street seller was selling. Mary and Cain had lagged behind a bit, while Riff's eyes were ever watching every move around them. Oscar was meant to have met up with them, but he had yet to turn up.

Mary looked up at him sharply, then relaxed a little as he looked unconcernedly at his pocket watch.

"She came down to the slums dressed a boy," she said quietly, "she was about nine at the time, I was three. I had wandered away from my mother; she picked me up and away from slave traders. Took me back home. Mother knew immediately she was a she. Ever since she would come to our house, always dressed as a boy. But I grew up knowing Dylan was a she."

"Having a uni-sex name helped her with her hidden gender I suppose," Cain said mildly.

"You do not like her, do you big brother?" she sounded so casual it almost caught him off guard.

"I have nothing to base my dislike on," he said dismissively, "I have yet to speak with her properly. Until then I cannot really have an opinion on her."

Mary frowned. Her brother had been up to something. She had wandered what it was, but she knew all too well she wouldn't find out. Not yet at least.

"So talk to her," Mary started, "she's living under your roof."

"She avoids me Mary," Cain stated, starting to get somewhat annoyed, "she does not seem to like people like me."

Mary chuckled. "She doesn't. She does not even like her own title." She looked up at the head of the Hargreaves. "But she has good reasons for it," she said darkly, "as many people do. She's a good person Cain, do not be so suspicious."

Cain shook his head, shaking his head slightly. "I am not suspicious, my dear Mary, simply cautious."

He looked back at Dylan as she started laughing again, the girl selling flowers was flushed a little red, but smiling back. Dylan bent to kiss the girl's cheek, handed her a coin and took two roses, one bud and one bloomed. She put the bloomed rose in the girl's hair, and put the bud in her own. Touching the stranger's hair, Dylan left and waved coming back to Cain and Mary.

"I love roses," she explained quickly, touching the blushing red rose in her dark locks, she glanced down at Mary, then removed the bud from behind her ear and put it amongst the pins in Mary's plait near her ear. She smiled again, "makes you look like a princess from out of a fairy tale!"

Yet again Cain's curiosity arose. He could not place her anywhere. She was formal at parties, cold towards men, friendly with servant, chatty with the lower classes and loving towards who she seemed to consider her friends. Yet she did not seem to make friends with those that seemed right of her station.

It made the young man wander what sort of contacts the young woman had. She was not yet seventeen, but she seemed to have lived as much as Cain himself had.

That evening, Oscar arrived apologising repeatedly, with no real excuse for his absence. But he stayed for dinner, still brazenly trying to get Cain to allow him to get closer to his little sister. Only this time he had to compete with Dylan Sedgewell, and it was clear whom Mary preferred.

Late that evening, once Mary had gone to bed to simply avoid Oscar, and Dylan was clearly not tired, Cain managed to get the girl on her own. After, of coarse, Oscar left.

As Cain showed his friend to the door, Oscar was being as ridiculous as ever.

"A new admirer, eh Cain?" he teased, "and this one is even living under your roof!"

"Get out," sighed Cain, "Lady Sedgewell is a friend of Mary's and a guest."

"Of coarse," smirked Oscar, "which is why you have been staring at her all night?"

"Out. Now," was the only reply.

Oscar left laughing at him, saying he'd be back in the morning. Cain said nothing in reply, simply accepted it. He enjoyed Oscar's company, even if he was rather irritating.

Returning to the study, Cain was surprised to see Dylan skimming through the books, apparently trying to find something to read. Cain found himself leaning against the doorframe watching her move about.

Her long dress was a deep shade of purple, down to the floor, rustling every time she moved. It was slightly off the shoulder, showing very little cleavage. She tended to wear clothes that outlined her curves, yet left quite a lot to the imagination.

Her dark hair rippled down her back, her body swayed at a tune that she seemed to be humming to herself.

He walked towards her, but she seemed to sense his presence, pausing for a fraction of a second, before resuming her search.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

"Not really," she admitted, lightly, "just something to keep me preoccupied."

"That appears to be rather difficult."

Cain was rewarded by a slight chuckle. "True," she replied, "I am a person of many interests and little attention. I tend to get bored rather easily." She turned to look at her host. That day her eyes were rather more blue than green. "Which is why I enjoy Mary's company so. She knows me well and knows how to make sure I am having fun, and I know how to make sure she is not bored as well."

It was Cain's turn to laugh, which seemed to take her by surprised. "It seems that life is not boring with you around, my lady."

Dylan stiffened. "Please, sir," she said quietly, "lady does not suit me. Do not refer to me as such a thing."

"But lady Dylan," he was almost mocking her, he was flirting with her, and he knew it all too well. Usually such flirtations were taken well, "it suits you all too well. You are positively the embodiment of what a lady should be."

"My young lord Cain," she said sharply, "hold your tongue. You have no right to say such things."

"It is a simple observation, Dylan, am I not allowed to express such beliefs."

A smirk appeared on her small, rose, bud lips. She lent her weight on he left leg, leaning against the shelf. Cain could almost see her in a flat cap, canvas trousers and a work shirt; quite simply, dressed as a boy. She had the same cockiness of any male of the slums, but the status to show it so bluntly.

"Is that so? So is it not my right to state my own observations? Such as how you your self are an embodiment of what a lord is?"

"How so?" Cain was slightly taken aback.

"Why… you're haughtiness of coarse. Your assumption that you are what every woman would want. Your flirtatious ways. Your command of your servants. You have no care of what their life entails, you simply want people who will work under you. And why would you want such things? You are such an oh so important person are you not? Born into a house of such wealth."

Cain stared at her, his eyes glassy.

"Tell me it is not so," she said quietly, "that you have always had your status. That you have not always had that respect from those beneath you."

Admittedly he could not, but at the same time, he knew exactly how it felt to be treated worse than the dirt beneath one's feet.

"See? You are the embodiment of a lord, Cain my dear," she said smoothly, she practically waltzed over to him, she reached up and touched his hair, and trailed her dainty, yet callused hand down his cheek, "and I? I am simply a street's tart in fancy dress. Oh I look the part, I grant you, but what you see before you? This is a charade. You know nothing of me, Cain," she leaned forewords, pressing her bosom to his chest, her lips brushing his ear, "you know nothing, and as much as you dig… you never will."

She moved away from him, only to have him snatch her wrist and pull her towards him. He snatched up the other one and pushed his face into hers, getting angry.

"You might think you have me down, Dylan," he practically spat, pushing her back and back till her spine was pressed against the bookcase, "but you do not know me either. You say you are a tart in fancy dress? I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. No one knows of who I truly am. Earl of poisons they call me. You do not know the half of it. So do not treat me like a child. I know more of the world than you ever could."

He released her, slightly surprised to see her appearing so very calm. He turned his back to her and walked towards the fireplace. He leaned against it, one arm above it, leaning on the shelf.

Next thing he knew, he could smell Dylan's rose sent again.

"You mean… Delilah?" she murmured, and then moved away as he spun round.

"What did you say?"

she smirked again. "You seek the tarots of the group Delilah. You, who are the son of the card-master and half-brother of a prominent card."

"How the hell do you know all this?" he demanded.

She laughed. It was cool, cold and chilling. "We all have our… contacts," she said mildly, turning away from him, "some take advantage of them… other's forget they have them. I keep mine close to my breast and let no one touch them."

She was almost at the door of the study.

"Know your friends and keep them close, my darling Cain," she said, suddenly sounding kindly, he looked up at her. For the first time he realised she sounded sweet and this time it appeared to be genuine.

It was only then did he finally hear her true accent, rather than her forced upper class one, "keep 'em close, yer'll need 'em. Bu'… keep yer enemies closa. Yer'll need ter know ev'ry move." She left, silently. He couldn't even hear her go up the stairs. It was not until he heard the door slam did he knew where she was.

Yet again, Cain was left in the dark. But now the dark about Dylan was even more oppressing. He simply needed to know more. He felt suffocated by his ignorance.


	4. Play Acting

A/N: again thank u 2 ryderion 4 the review yepyepyep... her identity isn't that much of a secret... but other aspects of her are... we shall see CHAPPY 3 have fun

Play Acting

The very next morning, Dylan acted as though nothing had happened the night before.

As usually she smiled pleasantly at Cain as he walked in to find her finishing off her plate. She asked him if he slept well, then, after he had replied that he had, if he had eaten yet. That morning Cain had told Riff not to bring his breakfast to him. When he replied no, she asked him what he would like to eat, as she picked up her plates and cutlery to take down stairs.

"Dylan…" he said slowly, "why would you want to know?"

"Because Louise is not very well this morning and I have ordered her to stay sitting quietly until she has stopped feeling dizzy. I have volunteered to make breakfast, but she refused to let me make lunch."

"That is just as well," said Cain, trying not to let his voice sound very tight, "we are going into town again. My friend Oscar has invited us to the theatre and I thought you might like to explore the town a little bit more before the show."

Dylan smiled gently. "Thank you, my lord," it was the first time she sounded the slightest bit sarcastic, there was a slight hint of the accent she had assumed so effortlessly the night before, "that is very kind of you. Do you think that Mary would mind so very much if I went to have a look on my own?"

Cain stopped himself from scowling. Why would she want to go alone? It almost didn't seem right. But he wasn't about to openly object. He did not want her to know of his suspicions. If she turned out to be an ally, he did want wish to alienate her. However, if she was a card of Delilah, he did not need Delilah to know of his little certainties.

"Of coarse not. The two of you have spent many hours together this past week, surely a couple would not have gone a miss. Besides, it would be good for me to spend some time with my sister, I have seen so little of her recently."

Dylan inclined her head. "Your breakfast, earl of poisons?" she asked, smoothly. He almost did not register the name.

"An omelette if you please… mushroom," he added for good measure, all the while thinking 'two can play this game, my lady'.

His words registered, and a smile lit up her face. Evidently she enjoyed a challenge. "As you wish," she said calmly, walking out of the room, silently.

Half an hour past, and she returned with a plate of egg, with a side of toast and butter.

"Bonapetit," she said quietly and she moved away. But again he caught hold of her wrist. She looked back at him quite calmly.

"My lady," he said softly, again she tensed as she heard the title, it seemed to strike a nerve, "my little tart in fancy dress… who are you to me? A friend I should hold close… or an enemy to hold closer?"

"My my master wolf," she relied, appearing to enjoy the banter, "aren't you getting frustrated."

"Answer me, Dylan," his voice was so low she bent slightly lower to hear him, her generous bosom strained slightly as gravity took a slight upper hand with her early morning dress, yet Cain took little notice, "is this little black sheep a friend of the Hargreaves, or an enemy?"

Dylan laughed, and twisted her hand easily out of his grip. "My my master wolf," she repeated her apparent nick name for him, "aren't you getting rather huffy this morning." She smirked down at him, then relaxed. "Well… I guess that is for you to decide. I take no sides, my poisonous earl, no sides but my own. My own is the side of those whom I care for."

She reached out and pushed a stray lock of pitch black hair away from Cain's eyes, almost so she could look at him better. Her head titled to one side as she looked at him, half sitting on the arm of his chair.

"Baa baa black sheep," she murmured, "isn't that both you and me, master wolf? A black sheep in the canvas white of a should be perfect family?"

"What do you know?" he snarled at her, almost hoping she would snatch her hand back, he did not like her at such close quarters. Her beauty was undeniable at any rate, but at such close proximity she was toxic.

But she did not move. She knew she did not need to.

"I know your family was not pleased with your birth. I have yet to discover why. But that is only a matter of time. I also know your father despises you. As does your half brother. Yet the doctor…" she sighed, looking away, "you're doctor half brother is not an evil man. He has been played with as much as you have, darling Cain. Positively more so." Again she looked at him, a hand raised as she touched his cheek. "Yet I do not understand the hatred he has for you. In some ways… you are positively identical…"

Cain pushed her hand away from him. "How do you know… how do you know any of this?"

"Observation… contacts… special abilities… all sorts, Cain," she said, but unsmilingly so, as though she did not want it, "you don't always choose what you learn. It simply happens. In a life such as mine, you accept what comes your way, and deal with it as you see fit."

"I should kill you," murmured Cain, "blame it on your curious nature. You wandered into my poison collection… pricked your finger…"

"And I will not hold it against you at all," she responded casually, she stood, "in fact… I would almost go as far as to say, I would help you. Make it happen. You have have no blood on your pretty white hands."

Cain stared at her. "My lady Dylan Sedgewell… what in the name of God are

you?"

She sighed. "I? I am… I am a profanity. A mark on the face of humanity. A being that should not be." She shook her head and looked back at him. "Eat your break fast, darling, poisonous Cain," she told him, turning to leave, "I must change for the coming day."

She left him with his cooling meal, and more questions, yet something was coming clear. She knew far more about Delilah than one should, yet she did not revel in this knowledge. She seemed to loathe it.

Perhaps she was a friend who should be kept as close as an enemy.

Perhaps she was an innocent who got carried away by the tide of Alexis' plans.

Perhaps she was not even sure herself of what she was or what part she was to play in the on coming events of the vague future to come.

The four of them, again Riff accompanied them, arrived at Oscar's apartment at about one in the afternoon. Mary did want to go with Dylan as she explored, but accepted the fact that the older girl wanted to go on her own quite easily.

Even Cain accepted it. His reasoning was that even if she ran he would know exactly where she would go, a lady of her stature had little place to run. She was far too easily seen.

She was dressed in a slightly shorter dress than usual, rather sombre colours or maroons or browns, but they only made her skin look more illustrious and her eyes far more defined.

She left them half an hour later, after eating a very light lunch, being incredibly social with them all, even trying to include Riff in the conversations. She seemed to know of his background in being a doctor, which made assume (and all too rightly) that he was a clever and quietly opinionated man.

She had a slight spring in her step as she left, and Cain noticed the shoe's she wore seemed to be work man's shoes with an added heel. He frowned but dismissed it.

"Are you sure you will manage?" asked Riff, as he opened the door for her.

Dylan smiled at him. "I promise," she replied, "I am no stranger to the streets, my dear." With that she waved to the rest of the room and departed, her heel clipping the floor.

There was a moment's quiet, then Cain turned to Mary. But the little girl seemed to expect it.

"No, brother," she said immediately, "I trust Dylan with my life. You are not allowed to pry into her life. I do not care how suspicious you are."

Cain sighed. "You don't understand Mary. I just wish to know more about her. But she avoids me."

"What about last night?"

He shook his head. "All I got was more questions. She called herself a street tart in fancy dress."

Mary stared, then started laughing. "Well…" she smirked slightly, "to be honest, Cain, that's one way of putting it."

Oscar looked between the siblings looking confused. As usual Cain and neglected to even care if Oscar was even there. The young man simply sighed and leaned back in his chair and watched the little girl he so cared about, and his best friend talk. It was the easiest thing to do. Besides, Cain couldn't get angry with him for looking at Mary then.

"Mary…" sighed Cain, "don't talk in riddles…"

Mary smiled at him properly. "I wouldn't call her a tart. But she most certainly is in fancy dress. She's slum born, and it doesn't matter how long ago you were there, you never forget it. With Dyl… it's apart of her. She brought herself up, brother, as much as Lady Lily tried to treat her equally, Lord Sedgewell wasn't having it. He didn't appreciate having his mistakes in his face everyday." Mary sighed. "Dylan's siblings are so plain, nothing much stands out about them. But Dylan is stunning. Lord Sedgewell wants his legitimate daughters to have a good marriage. It almost seems as though he wants to keep her a spinster. It really doesn't help her that almost everyone pays her all the attention at all these parties."

Cain frowned. It made sense. She was indeed the black sheep of her family, but not quite in the same way that he was. He was kept in the family because they refused to leave him on the streets, and few knew who his true mother was. Yet Dylan seemed to have only been kept to keep Lily quiet and quash any unsightly rumours about Lord Sedgewell.

For the first time Cain felt pity overwhelming his curiosity.

"Don't pity her," Mary said suddenly, understanding the expression on her older brother's face. "She despises pity. She has learned to deal with it, and she is truly free. She might not be open about it, but soon enough she will be free of her father."

It was then that Cain understood his sister's naivety. A woman could only truly be free when she was married off. It was the ninetieth century! No one in their right mind would let their women out on their own.

He shook his head, and pulled Mary into a hug. "It will be a very long time until she is free, Mary. Society is unfair on those like her."

Cain felt shaking in his arms. To begin with he thought Mary was crying, but instead he realised she was laughing.

"Oh older brother. It is you who is naive." She beamed up at him. "You'll soon understand. Women aren't entirely weak."

He looked down at her smiling face. Mary obviously knew no more than that, but then again she knew Dylan better than he did. Evidently the girl was extremely resourceful, and apparently more powerful than she let on.


	5. Whose Law?

A/N: 1) biiiiig thank u 2 Jamra and (yet again) Ryderion. Ryderion especially- since u have nw given me 3 reviews XD seriously, u guys have no idea hw much it spurs me on 2 write!!!

2)EID MUBARAK!!!!! it's eid (at least where i am...) today and i just wanna say happy eid 2 everyone, muslim or not, religious or not (i aint religious P i jst gt caught up with the traditions muslim family of mine P) ... hell... HUMAN or not i hope u have a gd day reguardless of religion

3) i have a fair idea 4 wat i want 2 happen in the story, vague written outline etc. BUT i'm just ritin this 4 fun- so those of u hu read and like it... is there anythin u wanna see or not see happen? no promises it will/wont, but i will most certainly take it in consideration. and i will not just take ur ideas, i will makes ppl no tht i have stolen them off YOU

4) GO! READ! NOW! and have fun

Whose Law?

Wandering through the streets, Dylan slipped down a side ally. One she knew all too well. She smirked to herself as she slipped off her fancy dress, and removed the heels from beneath her shoes.

She had designed it herself, the heels gave the impression that she was wearing the usual Lady's shoe, even if they did not look like it. The sound alone would disillusion many people. Anyone who looked any closer was a suspect. They slide onto the bottom of the shoe, over the small heel that had been put there originally.

Her clothes beneath were simply work man's clothes, rough, brown canvas jeans, a loose discoloured shirt on her torso. From her bag she pulled a flat cap and a hair band.

She glanced round the ally, before bending over, kneeling on the floor, knocking on the flag stones, till she heard something slightly hollow.

With a grim grin she lodged her fingers round the sides of the flag stone, and with an effort she pulled it free of the others. Beneath she uncovered a surprisingly clean cabinet. Within were shoes she had forgotten, old fans or favours from men she did not care to remember the name for. She had created this hiding place, and many others, for when she came out.

Yet again she pushed her dress into the small dusty space, followed by her bag and fake heels. She pushed the flag stone down again, got up, dusting herself off, looking round again.

No one there. She strained her ears. Again nothing, but the scuffles between the small animals. She smiled hearing their familiar complaints, and squeaks.

She pulled her long hair back into a horsetail, and pushed it up within the flat cap and set the hat low over her eyes. She needed to wait till she was amongst people she trusted before she revealed the fact that she was a girl. Otherwise ladies wandering on their own might run into certain amounts of trouble. In some cases rape. Otherwise, Jack the Ripper impersonators.

Either way, it would not have been a pleasant sight who came across the person who had attempted to try and make trouble for Lady Dylan Sedgewell.

Miss Dylan O'Toole. That was the name she was born with. The name she adopted when she arrived back in the slums. She made no secret of the fact that she was adopted into higher society, but at the same time all the vagabonds and lower classes knew she had no love for her forced upon status.

Shaking her head, she walked deeper into the ally way. The deeper she went, the deeper into the heart of her people she went into. It had been so long since she had seen them, she knew all too well she would be in an enormous amount of trouble when they set eyes on her.

At the same time, they would rejoiced in the fact that she was back. It was a compromise between the two that Dylan relished.

She could barely contain her excitement. She was coming home.

The nearer she grew the more her heart hammering within the confines of her chest, the noise of the slums grew with it. Her usually sedate mouth was pulled into a grin of impatience. She would have ran if she wanted to. But just then she relished in the anticipation building within her.

She came into the main square of that area. It was a small affair. More a courtyard than anything else. But all the same, it was where all her people of that area of London gathered.

All sorts of people were there. Old woman, young boys, little babies still on their mothers backs. The older generation were either talking together or reprimanding young scallywags, while the teenaged men and women spoke or flirted. Mothers tried to keep track of their children, as well as their neighbour's children, while the odd father that had come home from their honest day's work played with their little ones or kissed their family good bye.

Dylan smiled to herself, the jumped up on a create. The sound alerted people around her, they looked up at her, and slowly more and more people looked towards her. They all began to recognise her cocky grin, half hidden by a shadow of her flat cap. She stood with her weight on one leg, the other slightly bent, her head tilted back so she could see those around her.

"Hey guys," she said softly, "missed me?"

"You bet!" called out a sweet voice, next thing Dylan knew a small pair of strong arms had wrapped themselves round her legs. She lost her balance slightly, but regained it again fast.

"Hey Claire," she smiled down at the little red head, "yer bin a good girl?"

Around her people started gathering, grinning up at her. Babble started round her as every started talking to her or about her.

Dylan heard one little boy said, "who'th he?"

"No' he, baby," said a sweet mother's voice, one she knew quite well.

She looked over to see a young woman, maybe only six years older than Dylan herself. The woman had her long hair twisted up into a bun, stray bits of hair escaping the pins and falling into her face. Her soft light brown eyes concentrated on the little bruenette boy in her arms.

"That's a she."

"Bu'… why ain' thee wearin' a dweth," the little boy asked, his words changed by a lisp, "where'th her haiw?!"

"Because she's Dylan, sweetie," his mother said kindly, "Queen Dylan."

"But I thought we were ruled by-"

"No no no," his mother said, laughing, "tha' one is the rula of England. Dylan iz our queen. She makes sure we c'n ea' and makes sure thin's are goin' ok."

"But doethn't…" the little boy sounded almost sad.

"Ruler's don't have all the time in the world to look after all their people," his mother smiled, "so they have people like Dylan to help them."

"That's bull and you know it Susan!" called over a male voice.

Dylan almost jumped to hear it so close to her. She turned to see the large honey eyes of Lucus Roberts. She smiled at him gently, but he wasn't looking at her yet.

By then he had everyone's attention. There was a certain amount of whispering around. Normally Dylan would have told him to keep quiet, but Lucus was a very voiced young man. It had been a while since she had heard his opinions.

"Their magisty up there couldn' care less about uz lo'!" he said, "for uz, on'y Dylan iz in charge. 'er word is law, Tommy, don' fergeddi'."

Dylan blushed very slightly. "You exaddura'e," said Dylan calmly, "i's jus' tha' I'm the on'y one tha' 'as the means ter 'elp our lo' owt."

Lucus looked at her, the came round and picked her up off the create with his strong arms, set her on the floor and kissed her forehead.

"Yer see tha'?" he demanded loudly, "Dylan is the on'y queen in the world tha' would le' 'er subjec's kiss 'er! Tha' jus' means shes close ter uz. If tha' ain' a sign tha' yer our on'y queen, then I dunno wha' is."

Dylan rolled her eyes as there were murmers of agreements. It was true for Lucus at least. The man had been treated badly by the state since he was a young child. He damned the monarchy since he was able to. He liked the idea, he simply wished there were more involved with their people.

To him, it was Dylan that was born to rule them.

It was also him who had proclaimed her the begger's Queen when she was fourteen. Ever since- she was known throughout the underworld as their queen and no one would to repute that. Not even the most hardened murderer.

Simly because she had such powerful friends. Her friendly nature and loving ways made it difficult to hate her.

"Jus' ignore 'im," said Dylan, blushing, "i's jus' the way I am." She smiled round at her people, and sat on the crate, Lucus standing behind her like a body guard, though she did not need it. "You guys go' anythin' ter tell me 'bowt since I've been 'ere las'?"

Unusually, there was next to nothing. The food she had given them and repeatedly sent them went down well with them all with no squabbles. Her pick-pockets had been able to steal enough money to feed them all when she ran out, so none were in too much trouble.

There was one sad event, that Dylan had not been told about till the end.

Her eyes looked round, trying to find one woman she knew very well. She couldn't locate the red head any where.

A few were drifting away by that point, glad to see their little queen and glad to know she was alright and still loyal to them. The men left back for work, while the wives headed home to cook or clean or what have you.

Several children remained, talking to her about their daily lives and miseries. She listened contentedly, greeting their chatter with smiles and gasps where needed. Little Tommy had wormed his way round to find his way onto her lap, and was playing with the hair he had cause to tumble out of her cap. She didn't bother putting it back up, it didn't matter all that much.

"Hey guys…" she started slowly, "where's Katie?"

The children looked at each other in surprise, and Lucus, who had wandered away to talk to an accumplise, came to her side immediately.

"C'mon guys, ge' movin'. Dylan's gotta attend to some impor'an' stuff, you c'n cha' to 'er la'er."

The children looked crest fallen, the loiked it when Dylan came, she was fun. Tommy hugged Dylan tight, then bounded off her lap to stand with his friends.

"Listen," she started, "I promise I'll come an' jus' talk la'er, bu' even then I promise I'll come back soon."

"You sure…" asked an older girl, "I 'eard you wuz stayin' with earl Hargreaves."

"I am," she said, "'e's no' all tha' bad. Bi' of a you-know-what," she winked at the older children who grinned back, "bu' 'e 'as 'is moments. Mary-Weather 'as 'im as a big brother, so 'e can' be too bad. Anyway, I am sure. Now ge' los' so I c'n attend this…" she looked up at Lucus, and put her fingers up at as quotation marks, rolling her eyes, "important work."

They all laughed, and ran off. One starting a game of 'It' and it spread through the group. Soon they were all squealing and running all over the place.

"Where's Katie?" she demanded turning to Lucus, her hands on her hips, looking up into the honey eyes of the man who had taken it upon himself to be her unofficial guard.

"Uh…" he started, he looked round, "look, come back with me."

Dylan tightened, "how bad?"

"Very," he sighed, he reached out and took her hand in his own, "c'mon… we don' wan' ev'ryon ter see yer upse'."

She nodded and entwined her fingers with his. He smiled at her and tugged on her hand, leading her away to his home.


	6. The Loss

The Loss

A/N: 1)thank u Jamra 4 bein mi only reviewer of chapter 5 P im glad ur learnin SUMTHING off this

2)ive got quite a few readers 4 this it seems... yet nt 2 many reviews [ plz review it!!! i mite b gt the inspiration 2 rite as much if this lack of reviews continues... the more reviews i gt- the more inspired i become ;

3) I didn't realise that it would turn in2 a somewhat M story this early on, but nvr mind. i won't put the M bit on this story- this will stay a T story if anythin important happens in an M chapter- ill put a summery of it at the beginning of the next chapter on here if you want 2 read the M bits, they'll b under 'M chapters of Baa Baa Black Sheep'

Quiet settled around them as they sat on the bed. Dylan staring straight ahead. Her shifting eyes turning to a dull blue, glossed over with tears she was refusing to let fall.

"I can'…" she murmured, "I can' believe i'… i's… i'sno' righ'…" She swallowed hard. "When?"

"Two nigh's ago?"

Dylan felt her arms subconsciously curl round herself. It wasn't fair. She felt Lucus come closer, and pulled her into a tight hug. She did not return the gesture, but she hid her face at the base of of his neck. He tightened his grip round her.

"I 'ave ter go see 'er," she mumbled pulling away from him, standing up, "I 'ave ter…"

Lucus knew better than to stop her, but it did not stop him from taking her hand gently in his own. She looked at him, her now dulled green eyes completely torn with overwhelming sadness.

"Do yer think tha's a good idea?" he asked mildly, "yer in a state Dyl… do yer wan' ev'ryone ter see that?"

"The kid jus' DIED!" exclaimed Dylan, almost angry, "I ain' a monarch, Luke, I'm a girl."

"No yer no'…"

She sighed. "Alrigh' I'm no'. Bu' I ain' exac'ly a grown woman eitha. Katie's my friend… I owe 'er. An' any way, yer sed so yerself; I'm the on'y queen tha' le's her subjec's kiss 'er. I'm the on'y queen tha'll le' 'er subjec's see 'er in pain too." She watched for Lucus' reaction.

He smiled, softly, sadly. "Yer righ'… God I ha'e yer when yer righ'."

She smiled at him, and reached out and pushed his dark waves away from his chiselled jaw.

She studied his face for a moment. His wide mouth, strong nose, wide honey eyes and brown waves of hair. His body was slim, but solid and durable. His muscles she knew were well defined and strong, even when he hugged her gently, she could tell if he did not care for her so, and was so worried about hurting her, he could crush her like an egg.

He never did though. He never treated her like a china doll, their games as children had been rough, their games (though admittedly more dangerous) as adults were no less exciting. But he did treat her like he needed to look after her, make sure she was all right.

"C'mon," he said softly, "I'll take yer."

She nodded, but did not smile.

He took hold of her hand and led her out of his single roomed shared apartment.

Out into the streets where the children played, and women gossiped. All smiled at Dylan as she passed, the looked horror struck to see her stricken face. A woman followed her for a moment.

"Dylan! Wha'sa ma'er?" she asked.

"Katie…" she murmured, "I jus' found owt…"

The woman stopped, and touched her shoulder as she caught up. Dylan stopped and looked up at the blonde woman. She embraced Dylan warmly, holding her close, kissing the crown of her head. "It'll be alrigh'," she woman promised, "yer'll see."

Dylan looked up at her, and tried a smile. "I 'ope so…"

The woman smiled, and walked away again to meet with her friends as Lucus resumed his ace.

They entered the square, cutting across it, children keeping away from their glossy eyed queen, the youngest sensing her deep ache. The older generations looking surprised. That was until they saw the direction that Lucus was taking Dylan to. One by one men took off their hats and women paused to remember as a fresh wave of emotion enveloped the community. It had not been long since the little girl had died, but they did could not believe it was real.

Lucus knocked on a door at the edge of the square.

There was a small croaky reply, and Dylan rushed in, sweeping the older red head into her arms, her own shoulders shaking from unfelled tears.

"I'm sorry Katie," she murmured, "I should 'ave been 'ere. I should 'ave-"

"Ssshh," whispered the irish woman, "ssh. It's alrigh', pet." Dylan looked up at Katie. "Lisa's playin' with the angels now. She's watchin' us, makin' sure we're ok. We mustn' worry her."

Katie smiled at Dylan, as a single tear fell from the dull blue eyes, Katie wiped it away again.

"She wouldn' 'ave wanted yer to cry, luv," Katie said, almost sternly, "you must remember 'er when times are good, then she will always be with you."

"Bu'… I wasn' 'ere… I wasn' 'ere ter 'old 'er hand," Dylan's voice was thick with emotion, "I wasn' 'ere ter 'elp yer bury 'er. I couldn' say good bye."

"She said good bye to yer," Katie said softly, "she said, 'tell Dilly tha' I say bye… tell Dilly tha' will you mum?'. And so I 'ave told yer, she 'as said good bye."

"I miss her," whispered Dylan softly, "I've on'y jus' lost 'er and I miss 'er."

"I miss 'er too, pet," Katie said mildly, "bu' she's 'ere now." She places a worn hand over her heart, "and all around us. You'll see, she won' be fergotten."

"I know…"

Dylan simply held onto Katie tightly, her face buried in the deep dark locks of fiery red. She didn't want to let go. Dylan had known Katie since she had been a little girl, she was like a young auntie or much older sister to her. Half mother figure, half sister.

And Lisa was her goddaughter.

The little girl had freckles on the bridge of her nose. Huge blue eyes. Translucent pale skin. Skinny little arms and legs. And more energy than any one could have imagined in a little girl. Only Dylan could keep up with her.

Now she was gone, and Dylan felt like her insides had been squeezed out of her.

"Go," murmured Katie, "you mustn' grieve long. Live happily, remember her that way."

"Yes Katie…" she looked up into the pale blue of the older woman, "when I come back again, you much show me where is now, I want to visit her."

"Of course."

"And I'll be back soon to visit you too," she promised.

"You had better," Katie grinned, almost wickedly, "or there'll be hell to pay, my little darling."

Dylan tried a smile, then leaned forewords and kissed her cheek softly. Katie touched her cheek as Dylan pulled away.

Without a word, Dylan left, closely followed by Lucus.

"Are you ok?" he asked, rather timidly.

"Can we go back ter your house? I don' really wanna see any one right now."

Lucus nodded.

Five minutes later they were back in the apartment, Dylan staring straight at the wall. It was an earthy brown. Not dirty, simply unpainted.

Lucus shared the apartment with four other men, it was hardly surprising that it was also incredibly dirty. There were three unmade beds, that the five of them took in turns for sleeping in, while the other two slept on the floor, and all were completely unmade.

There were night clothes and shirts on the floor that would eventually be gathered up for cleaning. Mud was every where, but all the shoes were being worn. There were no pictures, no ornaments. Only the basic needs of the five men that shared that tiny space.

She sighed and looked at Lucus. He had been leaning on the wall, studying her.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"You're beautiful," he said simply, smiling at her.

She smiled back, softly, and beaconed him closer. He obliged happily kicking off his boots to sit with her on the bed.

"Yer say tha' so often," she said softly, "how do I know yer mean it?"

He leaned foreword, taking her chin in his thumb and forefinger and kissed her lips gently.

"You don't," he said, "you'll just' 'ave ter trus' me."

She laughed, leaning back against the wall, looking at him again. "There's a problem there, my dear," she teased, "I don' trus' anyone."

Lucus pushed himself forewords and kissed her mouth again, this time she kissed him back. Softly at first, then harder. Her arms snaked round his neck, pulling him closer to her body.

His own arms slipped round her small waist, pinning her to him. Not that she was complaining.

Her kiss became more and more desperate, as her hands clutched at his hair. He could sense her wanting more, but holding back for his sake.

He pulled away, looking shocked.

"Don' look at me like tha'," she panted slightly.

"Yer in mourning," he said simply, pulling away from her, "i's no' righ'."

Dylan growled and pulled on his arm.

"I's righ' if we both wan' i'," she stated, "and righ' now… I need i'… I need you."

"Bu-"

"No, Luke," she snapped, "I. Need. You."

She pushed herself closer and kissed his mouth softly, then his jaw line, then his neck, then the base. He shuddered, and she bite that sensitive spot slightly. She smirked slightly, as she kissed her way back to his mouth.

"You can' tell me yer don' wan i'," she whispered, hoarsely.

He shuddered. Honey met shifting green and blue. The brightness had returned, she looked alive again. There was no denying that she knew what she wanted.

"Yer temptress," he whispered, kissing her back just as forcefully.


	7. Dull Blue

Dull Blue

A/N: sorry it's taken me so long to post- I've been a bit busy. I've got lots of work 2 do and my mum's unwell so I've got quite a bit on mi mind :P sorry guys. Buuuut… hehe… I luv mi reviews

Ryderion: hehe… heated could be one word for it ;)

Jamra: sorry it took me so long :( hope ur withdrawl haven't taken over so completely!! Enjoy this 1

Lady of the Storm: hope u do continue reading it XD let me no wat u think 2!!

Angelforsaken: (I luv ur name by the way) hehe it's not that well written but glad u like it

This chapter's for u guys!!!!

(changed my mind about that- I just havent' been inspired to write even a slightly maturer scene for a very long time… haven't been inspired to write very much recently :( sorry guys but here's chapter 7 as promised :))

Lucus watched her as she pulled her shirt on. He loved how she wore nothing beneath the shirt. It was almost a shame for him that the garment was so loose. But then again, she was his queen. Other prying eyes were most certainly prohibited.

As she put her hands behind her to slide off the bed, he snatched up her wrist, and pulled her towards him once again. He kissed her small mouth softly.

"When yer comin' back?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"When I c'n," Dylan replied, smiling at him. She kissed his rough cheek gently, and twisted her little hand out of his grip. "I'm am stayin' wiv an earl a' the momen'. Migh' be a bi' difficul' ter ge' ow'."

She slide off the bed and pulled on her canvas jeans. As she pulled on her shoes once more, and laced them up, Lucus got out of bed, and grabbed his own trousers.

"Don' bother swee'hear'," she said mildly, "I'm jus' gonna go straigh' back. Don' need an escor'." She looked up at him, pushing hair away from her eyes she smirked at him, then pouted. "I'm a big gal now." She winked, dropped her hair and went back to tying up her shoes.

It was his turn to smirk. He came round behind her, bent over her with the curves of their body identical and wound his arms round her waist. "Don' I know i'," he murmured in her ear, softly.

Pushing the two of them upright, Dylan turned in the circle of his arms and wrapped his neck in her own embrace. She kissed his mouth softly. "Shuddup," she said as she leaned back again to examine those intense honeyed eyes, the strong face and soft hair, "yer always wan' a come back… even if i's no' needed."

"I's the on'y way I win," Lucus attempted a pout, only to have Dylan bare her teeth at him. His lower lip immediately retreated into a sheepish grin, "fiiine… you go 'ave fun playin' games wi' yer lil earl."

She kissed his cheek and pulled away from him. "Oh I will," she beamed, as she turned, grabbing her hat and headed towards the door. She stood in front of the door for a moment, tucking her hair into her cap, she turned her profile towards Lucus for just a moment, "I am gonna 'ave so much fun…"

There was a glint of something in her eyes that Lucus could decipher. It wasn't anger as he might have expected but something else. Impatience maybe. Curiosity. And something definitely not pleasant.

He shuddered. To be on the wrong side of Dylan Sedgewell you either had to be mad of have incredible contacts- preferably with angels or gods.

Outside Dylan took a deep breath. A lock of hair fell to her face. She scowled, and pushed it up beneath her cap. Pulling her cap lower over her eyes. Just then she did not want to see any one. She could not bring herself to. Her fix with Lucus only lasted so long. But it was enough to get her through.

She headed out the side allies, the ones that pretty much only _she_knew about. Only a quarter of pick pockets knew half the streets she had discovered. Murders or hard core thieves may knew almost all of them as well. But as far as Dylan knew, no one else used them.

She made her way slowly back to the street where her clothes were hidden. She looked round, and pulled up the flag stone retrieving her clothes.

Her senses were sharper than ever as she pulled her dress back on and reattached her heels. Not many people used her little hiding street. She was so glad for it.

For a moment or two she sighed and leaned against the wall within her apparently abandoned door way. Tears crept down her cheeks. She allowed four to fall.

After that she took a deep breath, pushed them away and continued on her way back to Oscar's flat. She would be a little earlier than she expected. But she had not realised such a catastrophe had happened. She was not sure she wanted to face either Oscar or Cain.

Oscar being so loud and boisterous and Cain being so perceptive.

She knew normally she would have been fine coming back. But the overwhelming feeling of loss kept coming back and hitting her. It was as if the waves of the ocean kept coming in and out, refreshing that cold feeling inside her gut.

At the same time, Mary-Weather was her friend, and she would know just how to look after her. Dylan had never been good at dealing with such losses. Even the death of her real mother hurt her.

Not long after that, she found herself outside the building apartment. She hadn't even realised she had walked so far. Sitting on the stair just outside was Oscar, a cigarette in hand, concentrating on a spot on the ground.

Smiling to herself Dylan walked over, and sat beside him. As he looked up at her in surprise, she took his cigarette, and took a long draft from it.

"You smoke?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, getting back her upper class accent, "well… not really. Just sometimes." She handed back the smoking stick. "Don't tell Cain," she winked, "he probably things I'm a bad influence on Mary as it is."

Oscar smiled at her. Dylan was taken a back at how soft and genuine it was. Evidently there were times when he could be more calm. "I think he likes you," he said simply, "he's not great at showing things like that. But he likes you."

Dylan laughed. "He thinks I am a mystery and he is _trying_to uncover it."

Oscar shrugged. "Yeah… that too…" Dylan laughed again, making Oscar blush. "But Mary loves you to bits. I think he may have let you off the hook slightly for that."

She shrugged. "We'll see." She stood up. "Is anyone actually in the apartment?"

"Well… Cain's out if that's what you mean."

"What means Riffeal too?"

"Of coarse." A look crossed Oscar's face, one of unusual suspicion and anguish. But it lasted for just a moment. Dylan knew she had seen it, but she did not push the subject. "Mary's there though."

"So what are you doing out here?" Dylan asked, she smirked.

Oscar grinned, embarrassed, his hand went to the back of his head, a usual reaction for him when he got embarrassed. "Cain won't let me near her on her own."

"Neither will she," added Dylan.

"Oh she's just playing," insisted Oscar, "she's young, so she doesn't want to admit her deep feelings for-"

"Stop talking crap," said Dylan abruptly.

Oscar stopped and stared at her. Dylan looked back at him unblinking, but silently cursing herself for falling back into her cursing habit.

"What did you say?" he asked surprised.

"I said stop talking such rubbish," she said simply, trying to keep her face impassive. She let a confused look cross her face, only a slight one. "What did you think I said?"

Oscar shook his head. "Nothing… I think the smoke's getting to me." He looked at his cigarette. The took another drag from it. "Go on up," he said, "Mary's probably so bored."

"Definitely," she inclined her head towards him, then walked into the building towards his apartment.

She knocked on the door. Mary asked who it was.

"It's Dyl, baby," she said quietly, "open the door." She could feel tears building in her eyes again. She couldn't stand it.

Hearing the tone, Mary ran to the door. She saw Dylan's normally ever changing eyes dulled to a muddy colour she could not decipher, and pulled her in, shut the door and dragged the older girl into her room and bolted the door with a chair.

"What happened?" she demanded.

Tears fell from Dylan's eyes again. But shut pushed them away. "Lisa… she's gone… She left us…"

Mary's eyes widened. She did not know the little girl, but she had heard so much about her from Dylan it was hard not to cry as well. She knew exactly how the child looked, how she would react to things, even Lisa's favourite food. It was strange to think that she would never hear about Dylan's goddaughter ever again.

"When?"

"A while ago. I found out today."

"Will…"

"I'll be fine…" she sighed, and looked up, "I have to be."

Mary shifted over and pulled off Dylan's shoes for her, then kicked off her own. Putting her arms round her friends neck, she curled up into her side.

Taking the hint, Dylan hugged Mary to her. She knew it had the distinct possibility of making her cry, but just then she needed to hold onto some one. For someone to hold onto her.

The two sat together till they heard the door open at the front and Oscar and Cain arguing again. dylan could not quite make out the words, but she knew it was something along the lines of leaving Mary alone in the apartment.

Wiping her tears away, she walked towards the door, opened it and stepped out.

"But my lord," she said softly, Cain looked away from Oscar (who was struggling against his grip on his shirt) and towards Dylan, "I was here with her. I arrived just as Oscar stepped out." She smiled at the still struggling figure of Oscar.

"See? See?!" complained Oscar, "you always think so bad of me! I would never have-"

"Shut up," sighed Cain, releasing him.

Oscar sighed in relief and mouthed a thank you at Dylan, who simply winked in return.

"How was your day, lady?" asked Cain, coming to take a seat as Riff removed his jacket.

Taking it as a signal that he wished to talk, Dylan sighed and came out of the room fully, closely followed by Mary. The pair sat on the sofa opposite, Mary curled up in Dylan's side.

"Oh rather slow. I saw a few old friends, made a few acquaintances." She wished she could have kept her up beat tone, but her emotions were getting the better of her. Her voice cracked, and her head dropped. She did not wish for Cain Hargreaves of all people to see her in such a state. "Sorry," she mumbled, "I also received some bad news. Excuse me please."

She removed mary from her side and quickly left the room to go to her own. Mary sighed as she looked at her big brother.

"Don't tell me off…" he warned.

"I wasn't going to," said Mary, "I was just wandering… maybe we should call of the theatre tonight."

"What's happened?"

"Her friend's daughter died. The child was like a niece to Dyl. The death hit her hard, she just isn't big on showing it."

"Evidently…" said Cain, rather cooly. He stood up sighing.

"Where are you going, big brother?" asked Mary.

"To talk to Dylan."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…" she said softly.

"You would," replied Cain simply, "because then you would be me… and you would not know so much about the girl."

"Jealous are we Cain?" asked Oscar, getting his teasing nature back.

"I thought I told you to shut up…"

Oscar made a face and turned away again, muttering to himself.

"Riff… make sure he does not go near Mary."

"Yes of coarse sir," Riff replied, automatically.

"That's not-" started Oscar jumping to his feet. Cain simply shot him an angry stare, making him sit down again, muttering to himself.

Cain made his way quickly to Dylan's room and knocked on the door softly.

"Yes?" she called, her voice was surprisingly clear.

"It's me."

"The earl of poisons or Oscar?"

Cain felt a muscle twitch in his cheek, but it stopped almost as soon as it started. "Your earl of poisons, my lady."

He thought he heard a slight chuckle, but at the same time it could have been a sob.

"The door's open," she said lightly, "come in."

He pushed the door open. The girl was standing in the middle of the room attempting to finish the zip at the back of her dress. Though incredibly flexible, she the zip was stuck on material.

Smirking to himself Cain walked towards her, closing the door behind him. He brushed her hair away from her back, allowing his fingers to brush her skin. But again she made no reaction, it was as though she had not felt it. He laid a hand on hers, and moved it away from the zip.

"Allow me," he said softly, taking the tag, sliding it open slightly to release the trapped cloth.

Dylan allowed her arms to drop to her side. "Thank you, master wolf," she said, smirking herself. She knew all too well what Cain's game was. Try to intimidate her. Probably how he treated most girls. Only they were probably the protected type; she was not.

He pulled the zipper shut, and delicately laced the back of the corseted dress up. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

"I was gonna ge' Mary ter do i'," she said casually, allowing the accent back again. Her cheerful smirk returned again as he looked up at her in surprised. "What's the matter, my lord?" she asked, swinging into the upper class, "not used to one with so many identities?"

Cain tied a small bow, and marvelled slightly at his handiwork. He had not realised he could do such a thing before, he was relatively good.

"You would be surprised, my lady."

"'ow many times to I 'ave ter tell yer," she said sharply, "don' call me lady."

Cain blinked in surprised, then smirked. He put a thumb and forefinger on her chin. Her body turned towards him automatically. So fast she lost balance. Her hands shot out, landing on his chest. Yet her eyes never left his.

"Slum borns never forget do they?" he murmured softly, his other hand pushing the hair away from her dull blue eyes. It came to rest at her waist. "You always know where you come from…"

"I would never wanna ferge'," she replied smoothly, pushing her chin up proudly, knowing all too well it was pushing her face towards this handsome young earl at the same time. She really did not care. "It's 'oo I am. Dylan Sedgewell? Pfft…"

She rolled her eyes and puled away from him, laughing.

"Lady Dylan Sedgewell? Maybe in another life… another time… but not now."

She faced him again. "Being a lady is far too much work," she said lightly, "would you not agree my lord?"

Cain looked at her in surprise. She seemed so different. There was something odd about her. Though she was smiling, though she was teasing him and goading him, there was something there… just behind her eyes.

Then it hit him. Her eyes. They were normally an extraordinary colour of a mixture between brilliant blue and emerald green. They were dull blue. Twinkling admittedly, but with a false light.

These smiles and teases, they were apart of her charade. Her attempt to cover up her hurting soul were working well. If only for her eyes.

Cain caught up her wrist, and pulled her close once more, watching her eyes.

"Wha'?" she asked.

"You do not need to pretend."

"Pretend? Of coarse I must! I am already the black sheep… I do not wish more hurt upon the family that took me in as their-"

"About how you feel."

She raised an eyebrow, leaning away, putting some distance between them. "Oh really? And what would you know."

"Your eyes, black sheep."

A hand went to her cheek, her long middle finger touching the corner of a wide eye. A look of shock crossed her face. "How did you-"

"With someone with eyes as conspicuous as yours, I'm surprised other do not notice the change so as well."

"Others are not as nosey," she said, sounding satisfied. She wrenched her wrist from his grip, "come come now. Make up will be needed for the theatre. Unless you want to help?"

"We don't have to go," said Cain, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Of coarse we do," Dylan said brightly. She saw a look of fleeting concern cross Cain's face before returning to his normal impassive expression.

She sat at her dressing table, and pulled out a few bottles of make up, "do not worry, good earl Cain," she said softly, "I'll be fine. She's playing with the angels."

She looked at him via the reflection in the mirror.

"Besides," her smirk returned with a vengeance, "a show should be a decent distraction to me."

He studied her face for a moment. Seeing the smirk, and the mischievous glitter in the gradually brightening blue of her eyes, he realised there was no changing her mind.

He nodded. "Be prepared to help Mary," was all he said before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

As he left, he saw Dylan's back curve, and her head bow at the neck. Her shoulders shook slightly but she did not say a word nor made a sound.

Cain left with out a word, re-entering the main living room.

Oscar was still sulking while Mary interrogated Riff as to where they had been.

He sat heavily on a seat, staring blankly into nothing.

As mary opened her mouth to say it, he interrupted her. "I know I know… but she's such a mystery…"

Mary smiled gently and murmured it again. "I told you so, Cain."


	8. Hell In The Theatre

Hell at the Theatre

A/N: I'm running out of reviewers again :( c'mon guys!! I luv knowin wat u think!!! Please please review again! I no it takes me a while to update every so often, but I've got so much work (collage) and reviews do really help me write faster :)

But thank u Jamra XD so far u were mi only review for chapter 6 :P I hope u enjoy chapter 7 as much.

Enjoy folks

They arrived at the theatre somewhat late. Mary wanted to look nice, and Dylan was all too happy to oblige. Cain walked in when Dylan was playing with his little sister's blonde locks. Jokingly older girl piled the little girl's curls on top of her head.

Mary laughed happily, as Dylan pretended to hunt for pins to do the hair style.

"C'mon!" complained Mary, "be serious! We need to go soon!"

"All right," she said, sighing, leaning over kissing her friend's forehead, "where are your pins? I know they were here somewhere…"

From her profile, Cain could see her looking momentarily confused. It passed when she caught sight of her brother's silhouette. He did not quite understand how she knew he was there. He had been so certain that made no sound.

"You ready, miss Dylan?" asked Cain, coming from him shadowy hiding place.

Dylan appeared to start, she turned round with her hand to her breast. To any one else she would have appeared to have truly been surprised. But there was the smallest of smirks on her mouth and a twinkle to her eyes that he still couldn't decipher. She was mocking.

"Oh! Cain! You frightened me!"

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then relaxed. She loved to taunt him it appeared. What was worse was she was getting better and better at it.

"Oh I do apologise," he replied, teasing her in return.

"I'm ready," she replied, looking down at her rather simple deep purple dress, rather low cut, cutting across her shoulders, she did look lovely.

Cain hated admitting that to himself.

"But we have to do Mary's hair." Her hand drifted across to the soft curls, stroking her friend's hair gently. "Shouldn't take long," she added, "it looks gorgeous." She winked down at Mary. "Fer once anyway."

He chuckled. "Be nice, lady," he said, "you are the one she'll be having a go at all night if your not careful."

Mary stood up in her chair, putting her arms round Dylan's neck. "Not likely big brother," she stuck her tongue out at him, "I don't get to see Dyl that often… you I see everyday." She beamed at him. "I'll just tease you."

He could not help but laugh. "Just hurry."

"As my poisonous earl wishes," agreed Dylan, and turned back to brushing and pinning Mary's hair.

When she was sure Cain was beyond ear shot, Mary said, "how did you know he was there?"

"'e's loud," she said simply, "I could 'ear 'im a mile off. 'e need ter learn the art of creepin'."

"He doesn't need to though. He needs to be known."

Dylan shrugged. "If 'e's gonna creep around, 'e'd be'ta do i' righ'."

Mary sighed and shook her head. Some how there was something strangely similar between Cain and Dylan. Not just the fact that they knew just how to irritate each other and took advantage of it, something far deeper. Far more ingrained, but she could not place it.

"Done," Dylan said as Mary thought it through, her lowered her head to be beside hers, "you look gorgeous, Mary."

Mary looked up at Dylan with big blue eyes. Dylan's own eyes were gaining their sparkle again, but they were still only blue instead of their usual shifting colours. It was strange to see them so calm.

She was such a pretty woman. Mary could hardly think of Dylan as a girl any more. It was not something that pushed them further apart, it was simply the fact that Dylan took in so much of her subject's problems and tried to sort the whole world out. She was not yet seventeen and she had already seen far too much.

"Well I'd better go in a head of you, coz you'll snatch all the attention from everyone… maybe we should sit at the back… wouldn't want to distract the men away from the play."

Dylan laughed heartily. "Yer tease!" she scolded, "tha's no' fair." She stuck her tongue out.

Mary rolled her eyes. Dylan by no means thought herself ugly, but she did not consider herself the stunning woman that she really was.

The little girl jumped off the chair and held out her hand to best friend. "C'mon, Cain is probably getting into another argument with Oscar again."

That made Dylan laugh as she followed the girl out of the room.

As they arrived at the theatre, Dylan started to feel uneasy. She became agitated and energetic. She could feel something was not right. But she did not know how to explain it to any of the other's around her.

Mary noticed her irritation, but said nothing. She thought it was because her brother was sitting beside her. Every so often his hand was graze the materiel of her dress at her leg or the skin of her shoulder. Though Dylan did not seem to notice, Mary suspected that was the case of the restlessness.

Riff opened the door for the four of them. Cain got out quickly followed by Oscar, who helped Mary down from the carriage. Dylan smiled to see the man appearing to be so smug to be able to even touch the girl! In that situation Cain could hardly tell his friend off.

Practically grinding his teeth Cain held out a hand for Dylan to take.

She hesitated. She had half a mind to ignore it and get out herself. But as she looked out at all the curious looking people, she thought it might be better if they thought that perhaps something was going on between Cain and herself. They were less likely to bother.

She was well known for jilting men's affections or help. So accepting a man's hand to even allow the man to help her from the carriage might stir a little amongst the upper class.

She took his hand and she felt him grip her fingers tightly. She returned the grip, and stepped lightly on the floor. The smirked to herself, she let her other heel slip on the wet floor. Off balance to practically landed on Cain, who caught her swiftly.

"I'm so sorry my lord," she said softly, almost whispering.

"It's fine…" he looked down at her face, again up close he had to admit to himself that she was such an odd mix of beauty and repulsion, beauty was skin deep his repulsion was her proud and mocking nature.

"You did that on purpose," he muttered to her as he offered her his arm.

She took it gracefully, "Of coarse," she replied, her eyes down cast, her cheek red. Cain wandered for a moment how she managed to get herself to blush, "I thought you'd rather not have women irritating you the one night you take your little sister and your friend to the theatre."

Cain raised an eye brow at her delicately and the moved off towards the theatre doors when Oscar, Mary and Riff waited for them both. Already mutterings had started about the two of them. Some openly other behind fans or hands.

It was not that Cain or even Dylan minded, it was the simple fact that all the upper class seemed to be the same. Revelling in gossip, scandal and other's lives. Though neither of them knew it, both were thinking the exact same thing:

'These people really need to wake up to the world.'

"You have the tickets, right?" Cain said slowly to Oscar.

He beamed at Cain. "I gave them Riff to look after."

Just as he said that Riff produced the tickets and handed them to Cain.

"Sensible…" Cain commented sounding surprised, "that makes a change."

"Then you can approve our ma-" started Oscar bounding closer to Mary. He immediately got smacked in the face. Not by Cain. Mary may have looked as though she was scowling, but in reality her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

Dylan knew without Mary needing to say so that the little girl did like Oscar. Maybe not fiancee materiel, but she liked him nonetheless.

Cain snorted. "Do not let your guard down round Mary…" he leaned closer to Oscar, but Dylan could still hear him, "she is a slum born after all," Cain's eyes slid towards Dylan, "they have more to them than meet's the eye."

Dylan looked round at others around her, not giving Cain the satisfaction that she had in fact heard what he had to say. It was clearly directed at herself as well. But she was not about to be provoked.

"My lord," she said softly, "do you not think it would be a good idea to proceed into the the auditorium? I would not like to miss a moment of this production."

In reality she had no idea what they had come to watch. She just wanted to get away from all the prying eyes. She knew she had brought it upon herself when she had accepted his hand, then his arm and not let go. But it was better than several different older women coming over to interview her.

"She's right," said Oscar, "it's supposed to be a good take on Shakespeare."

"What would you know about Shakespeare?" asked Cain, taking the lead into the theatre, Dylan on one arm and Mary holding his

"Uh…" started Oscar, then brightened, "I didn't say I knew anything about him- it's just been said that it's a good take on it."

Dylan glanced over her shoulder at him. He had his hand stuck behind his head again, grinning that maniacal grin of his. She had to admit, she liked him too. He was sweet and honest. Which made a change from the usual upper class she was used to.

She guessed it had been because he had been disowned by his family. Which was probably also why Cain had befriended him.

Black sheep attracted other black sheep.

Dylan hummed the tune of that well known nursery rhyme. She gripped Cain's arm tighter without even realising it. With all those human noises she could barely make out her friends. She felt oddly vulnerable.

Cain barely felt her hand, his senses were on high alert. As they had entered the theatre, he could have sworn he had seen the bulky build of his supposedly dead father. Not only that but along with him was his tall, silver haired half brother Jizabel.

Something was going to happen he could feel it. And he knew all too well that it was not going to be pretty.

They took their seats on a balcony pretty early on, just as the theatre was filling up. Dylan insisted on sitting in a shaded area of their box. She did not like being seen. Cain on the other hand sat right in front. He wanted to see if he could at least see Jizabel.

His half brother would be pretty easy to spot, there were not too many young men who had beautiful long silver hair. Especially not in high class English society.

Dylan too felt the presence of someone she knew. It was a literal sense, more of a feeling. She did not like it. It was not a good sense either.

"How are you, miss Sedgewell?" asked a deep calming voice from beside her.

Dylan looked up at him, scrutinising his face. She smiled at him. "Riff, how many times do I have to tell you? I am Dylan. Not lady, not miss… I'm not even a Sedgewell."

Riff looked down, his face clearly showed how awkward he felt.

Dylan sighed. "Look ma'e," she said quietly, "ter be 'ones', I'm a lowa class than yer anyway"

Riff stared at her. "You're as bad as my lord," he said, smiling slightly.

Dylan gazed at his face. Riff went slightly pink and looked away and made to move. Dylan reached out and touched his hand. "Riff?"

He paused. "Yes Dylan?"

"You have a wonderful smile," she said softly, "please smile more often."

He looked back at her, she was no long looking at him. Her hand still touched his, but her eyes was looking outwards the front of the box, where the balcony jutted out. She was looking at Cain and Mary. Mary was chatting to her brother, though Cain's attention seemed to be else where, he still paid attention to what the little girl has to say.

"Dylan…?"

She looked up at him. "Keep the smile, Riff," she said gently, "never loose it." She smiled at him.

Riff did not know what to say. Instead he inclined his head towards her and moved towards Cain. Dylan sat back contentedly. She had little else to do.

However because of her acute sense of hearing she could hear the muddles of conversations below.

"Have you heard? Lady Grace has run off with the chimney cleaner! It's a scandal for her poor father-"

"Oh they might say their money is from their properties, but we really know that-"

"Have you seen Lady Dylan Sedgewell tonight? She looks loverly… but with the earl Hargreaves-"

Dylan frowned. She did not think that she would still be a topic. It was hardly a big deal. It was probably already well known that the adopted Sedgewell daughter was to stay with the Hargreaves anyway.

She focused her hearing towards those who had been speaking about her. She knew it was a risk to concentrate her skills like that. If someone walked in or near her she would never know. Curiosity always got the better of her.

"You know she spurned my son?" said one woman ('Deep Voice' Dylan called her).

"Really? She's never been obvious about such things," said her friend, sounding confused ('Snooty' she decided).

"The adopted Sedgewell?" came in another, ('Kelly,' thought Dylan, for no apparent reason, even to herself), "she's a beautiful girl, but so cold."

"Yes," said Snooty, "she will listen to what you have to say, but she seems to look down on us all. I don't even know why she does- she was born in the slums."

"Oh be nice," said Kelly, "that is unfair. No one can help where they came from."

"Oh of coarse not," agreed Snooty, "but it still gives her no right to look down on us."

"Oh, but have you heard?" said Deep Voice, excitedly.

"Heard?" asked Snooty.

"The girl is staying with earl Hargreaves for a fortnight, that is why she is with them tonight! I heard it was because she was simply a friend of the family-"

"I thought it was a friend of the little girl the earl adopted," said Snooty.

Deep Voice seemed to wave it away, "what ever the reason, she is staying there. But I believe she is trying to take the lord Cain for herself. She had never before allowed a man to help her in any shape or form!"

"Maybe she is simply trying to be gentle and kind for the little girl's sake," offered Kelly.

"Humph," said Deep Voice, "I would hardly be surprised if they try to marry the girl off to the Hargreaves. The family isn't well known to have a lot of good luck, and with the girl's history and back ground, it would be hard to find someone to marry her off to."

That was when she felt a hand laid on her shoulder. Dylan jumped and almost attacked the person, then changed her mind when she saw it was Mary.

"Listening into conversations?" asked the little girl quietly, putting her arms round her friend's neck, almost protectively, "not a good idea."

Dylan smiled and put a hand to Mary's arms at her throat. "But they are so very insightful," she said, quietly, regaining her awareness of her surroundings, "did you know that people now think that I might be married off to your brother?"

She felt another presence beside her, a brush of hot breath by her cheek and an added pressure to her neck and shoulders. "Would you hate that so much?" asked Cain, softly, putting a finger beneath her chin pushing her face to look at him.

There was a smack. But not from Dylan.

"Leave her alone," said Mary, angrily, "it's not right to tease my friend so." The little girl pouted slightly, glaring at her big brother.

"You have powerful allies," murmured Cain softly, as he moved away from her.

She chuckled happily, "of coarse master wolf," she replied, standing up, taking Mary's hand, "a girl in my position either has such close loyal friends or is lost in the sea of this… society."

Cain stared at her. He said nothing, and resumed his seat. She scared him. Truly scared him. Unfortunately it was the sort of fear that provoked his curiosity even more.

Mean while Dylan took her seat, which appeared to be beside Cain, with Mary on her right. Oscar was towards Cai's left, keeping him as far as possible away from Mary.

As she looked out she saw a few of the people in the stalls and surrounding balconies look towards them in surprise. To her own surprise she found Cain taking her finger's in his own hand. Her head snapped towards him.

He lifted her and to his lips and brushed her fingers with his lips gently.

"Would not want them to miss a show, would you my lady?" asked Cain.

Dylan leaned over slightly to whisper in his ear. "As much as I love spectacles," she said softly, "I would not wish you any harm… for the time being. Do not push your luck so far, Cain."

Her venom was obvious to him, but with her sweet smile on her mouth anyone would have thought it was sweet things they were sharing rather than a threat.

He smiled back at her, yet did not let go of her hand. She did not force the issue, though Cain could practically feel her radiating anger.

Below them the mutterings of the older generation of women with very little to do with their lives increased. Dylan started to wish she had not taken advantage of Cain's presence, it was only causing more hassle than she had first anticipated.

Lucky for her, however, the lights began to dim and the certain began to rise. She had expected for Cain to let her hand go; his reaction was the reverse. His fingers tightened around her own, almost cutting off the circulation. Though this time, Dylan hardly blamed him.

Perhaps he had gotten the same feeling of anticipation that she had gotten herself. A feeling of a dreaded accident of some kind.

Despite herself, Dylan found herself leaning foreword, as was Cain, towards the stage, to get a better look. The two did not look at each other, nor did they recognise their mirrored movements.

In the orchestra a violinist stuck a low, whining note, as a lone figure limped across the stage, encased in a black cloak, and doubled over as though crippled with hunched back. A usual depiction of Richard III from the Shakespeare play.

This figure stopped when he arrived at a point on the stage and turned slowly towards the audience. He raised a hand to his hood, pushing it slowly away to reveal a face whiter than snow, eyes surrounded by black and red make up making his piercing blue eyes stand out towards the watching audience ever more obvious.

As he looked across the stalls then up and around the balconies, Cain and Dylan's hands gripped each others tightly, almost painfully. Dylan could feel her heart thumping wildly in her chest. If something was about to happen, she knew it would be soon.

He opened is mouth and…

BANG! All hell broke loose.


	9. A Reunion

A/N: YAY REVIEWS!!!!! I LUV MI REVIEWS!!!!! hugs all people who reviewd i'm sorry it took me so long to update... bt honestly- the more reviews faster i update so even if u reviewd b4... update me on wat u think of whats going on!!! oh and thank u to mi actual reviewers :P

Lady of the Storm: heh heh... i like mi cliffies - well, when i can find a suitible place to put them : ) hope this satifies ur curoisity... a bit anyway...

MsJezebel: i take it u like Jezebel then... dont worry... he does make an appearance... or two -

Jamra: THANK U SO MUCH!!!! u always review wen u read it XD u have no idea how much i appriciate it!!! o don't worry... the cliffies r few are far between... sort of :)

UchihaSayuri: thankuthankuthanku glad ur enjoying it!!

enjoy chapter 8 -

A Reunion

As splinters showered the screaming audience, Dylan and Cain ducked beneath the railing of the balcony. Cain had grabbed Oscar's collar, forcing his friend to the floor while Dylan had pulled Mary beneath her, protecting her from the sharp pieces of wood with her own body. Being so close to the stage may have given them the best view of the play, just then it gave them the best view of the explosion.

"Mary," said Dylan quietly, as she heard Oscar cursing loudly.

The little girl looked up at her friend. The older girl was cradling her tightly, bent right over her body. Dylan's eyes were tightly closed and her own body was shaking slightly.

"Yes?"

"You ok?"

"I'm fine. You?"

Dylan chuckled slightly. "I'll be fine, baby," she murmured, "now do me a favour an' go an' 'ide under yer chair, I'll be back soon."

Mary clutched at Dylan's arms. "Don't do anything dangerous."

Those eyes snapped open, revealing the shifting blue and green to be back again, and more brilliant than Mary had ever seen them before. She could not help but smile; Dylan was back. She was still obviously sad about Lisa, at the same time she seemed to have realised that Lisa would have hated to be the cause of Dylan loosing those eyes she seemed to have loved so much.

"I can' promise nuffin," Dylan stated, "now 'ide!" The mischievous smile was back, as was the glint of danger.

Mary grinned in reply, and drove under her chair, holding onto her knees. She felt something brush passed her knees for a moment, and she knew it was Dylan checking she was there.

It was then that Mary glanced round. Everything was shadowed in smoke, nothing was clear and her eyes watered in protest. Splinters seemed to have finished their showers, and realisation hit the people finally. Women were screaming, younger children were sobbing while some men tried to call for order.

It was absolute chaos.

Dylan felt her way to the door, feeling every prick of the splinters of her skin. She cherished and damned very single one. They reminded her that she was indeed alive. They also made her bleed, and it was beginning to annoy her.

She let herself out, and closed the heavy wooden door with a click. The halls outside the box were just as chaotic. People were running all over the place, attendants, stewards as well as audience members.

Glad for the chaos, Dylan lost herself amongst the throng. She knew where she was going. The man she sought liked to be away from humans, she had no love for his own kind. There was only one place he could go. Or would even want to.

Back in the box, the smoke had began to clear.

The first thing Cain did was look for Mary. He found her under her own seat, arms round her legs, looking out with wide blue eyes. There was not a scratch on her skin. Cain promised himself that he would thank Dylan when they got out of the theatre.

"Mary…" started Cain.

"I'm fine, big brother," she replied, relatively calmly.

"And Dylan?"

Doing her best to pretend she did not want to make fun of the strain in his voice as he asked for the girl, Mary replied solemnly, "she'll be back."

"Where is she…?" Cain asked again.

Pulling herself out from under her chair, Mary dusted off the cushion and sat back down upon it, and looked up at the golden green eyes of the Hargreaves earl. "She will be back," Mary said firmly, refusing to say any more.

Cain ground his teeth but could do no more. Instead her directed his attention to the scene below him; of the stalls, stage, orchestra and people in the firing line of the unusually badly placed bomb. The figure of 'Richard' in all his black, was sprawled on the stage still. He was hurt, but it appeared he was not by no means dead.

This attack evidently had not gone well. Though Cain suspected harm to the audience had not been intended, it was simply a shock factor. Especially considering he _knew_he had seen both his own father and 'the doctor'.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Cain looked up towards Riff. The tall man had bits of wood stuck to his clothes and hair. A little ash dulled his overall appearance. Cain almost brushed himself off, realising that he must look very similar. Only Mary seemed to be the least touch out of them all.

"We had better leave, sir," Riff said quietly, "before anything else can happen."

Sighing, and gritting his teeth, Cain straightened up and dusted his clothes off. He reached out to Mary to take his hand. The little girl was already pulling herself out of her hiding place, and was by her brother's side in a moment.

"We must wait for lady Sedge-" started Oscar, looking bemused.

"Oscar… that's Dylan… you don't wait for her… she'll come back to you. Eventually."

Cain felt about twenty years older than his actual age. He knew very little about Dylan, but as a host he was responsible for her. More than that, he felt it a duty to ensure her safety. But the girl resisted it at ever single turn. Even now she had sneaked off, when a terrorist had attacked a theatre, she could not stay still.

There had to be something wrong with her.

"When will she return?" Cain asked gravely.

"When she wants to," shrugged Mary, then frowned, "but I do think she will be home earlier than we think. She would not want us to worry. She despises making hosts worry about her."

"You wouldn't happen to know what she's doing…" asked Oscar, mildly.

Mary shook her head sadly. "I don't know everything about her." Her head snapped towards Cain. "But I do know she's trust worthy," she added, in menacing tones.

Unusually, Cain found himself agreeing with Mary. Dylan did not seem the type to be apart of an attack like that. Besides, her love for Mary was undeniable.

"Come then," Cain said wearily, "we'll leave… but we must came back to see the performance again some time."

Oscar stared at his friend, as Cain pulled on his coat and hat and grabbed his stick. Her muttered something about Cain being insane, as he followed both Cain and Mary from the box.

Mary herself was smiling to herself. Little did her big brother know, but his words almost mirrored precisely something Dylan would say. Just as calmly after just as supposedly traumatic experience.

The door creaked open. It had been unlocked, badly picked at, but it was effective. It seemed to work. Dylan frowned wandering who had opened for him. Obviously one who did not have a lot of experience with locks. It surprised her. He normally hired very able bodied underdogs. This was someone who was clearly learning the art.

She stepped out onto the roof, the cold hit her hard, but she ignored the impulse to shiver, though her skin was already covered in goose bumps and the hairs on her arms, legs… any where that was exposed to the cool night air.

Surveying the roof, she quickly spotted the tall figure of a man she knew well. Near by, in the shadows, she spotted a small crouching boy. She could only see him for the glimmer in his eyes from the moon.

Walking forewords, she allowed her heels to click against the cement of the roof. The silver hair glinted as the head turned a fraction. The eyes of the two strangely similar people met.

"Hello, doctor," she said mildly, "would you mind telling your lackey to leave us alone?"

The doctor, turned fully to face her. Surprise flitted through his face, yet it was hardly surprising. Dylan had ripped the bottom of her dress till it was on her knee, threads trailing from it. There was small tears here and there on the main body of the purple fabric. Her hair was out and wild as ever. Her eyes were again shifting eerily from blue and green, in all imaginable shades.

"Leave us, boy," he said firmly.

"But sir-" stammered the voice from the shadows, as he stood, Dylan made him out far more clearly. He was small, short, with black hair and a skinny frame. It was not the same one as last time. The last one had been of similar build and shape, but he moved with the lucidity of a grown man.

"Leave," the doctor's words had a ring of finality to them.

Scowling, the boy glared at Dylan, and moved in a wide circle round her to get to the door. She did not take her eyes off him till he had shut the doors behind him.

"Lady Dylan," murmured the doctor, bowing as Dylan moved forewords. With a massive ringing SLAP! Her hand made contact with his face, soft skin. Almost like a woman's. He jumped back. "What in God's name was that for?!"

Dylan was seething and did not bother to hide it. "How dare you… How_dare_you! You saw me here tonight! With Mary! I know you dislike… no… hate Cain, but how could you take it out on your little sister?! She is innocent! Jezebel… have you no soul?! No love?!"

Jezebel sighed and looked away, his hand to his cheek. "Dylan… I… I could not… I was under orders. This was not my idea. I had no idea you would be here tonight. When I saw you I wished to warn you. But fa- the card master forbade it. He insisted you would not be harmed."

"And you believed him?!"

"You're here are you not?" he snarled.

Dylan sighed, and came to him. She pushed her small hand in the way of his big one, and cupped the reddened cheek. "Darling…" she whispered, looking up at him, as he tried to avoid her eyes, "you are so naive…"

"How can you say that… you who is younger by far…"

"In years, of coarse," she agreed, half smirking, catching his gaze, and holding it, "but… my knowledge surpasses more than you give me credit for." She shook her head, and reached up, pushing herself forewords onto the tips of her toes. She pressed her soft lips to his cheek. "You understand so little."

It was as though Jezebel had finally let himself go, he engulfed the girl in a tight embrace, almost as though he did not wish to release her from his arms.

"I missed you," he muttered.

"I know," she replied, stroking his hair, "I know."

Final thoughts- I no it's another sort of cliffie- but I felt really bad leaving my updates so late, so I thought I'd wind thing chapter up, update you guys and hopefully the other bit will b done very very soon!! Bt please please please tell me what you think!!!!

Luff all


	10. What You Are

A/N: I'm not going to complain about reviews this time- coz u lovely people have already started reviewing my last chapter since I first put it up yesterday!!! Anyway, as promised, here is pretty much the second bit to chapter 8, but I think it works better as a chapter on its own.

Oh and special thank u to:

Jamra: THANK U SO MUCH!!!!! im so glad u're enjoying it so much :P MOST of ur questions shud b answered here… but the 1 about cassian… well… u might have to wait and see ;)

UchihaSayuri: he is deffinently HOT - not sure when he'll be making his next appearance tho… : ( ah welll…

Hope u enjoy the next chapter

What You Are

"It's so pretty out," sighed Dylan, leaning back on her hands, gazing out across the city she loves to so much.

As they sat on the edge of the roof, over looking the city of London, they barely noticed the people below, scurrying chaotically in the streets below. The ambulances had arrived, for the few that had been harmed. Already most of those seemed to be all right. The police had yet to arrive.

"Mmm…" agreed Jezebel, his eyes were fixed on the sky rather than the lights of the town.

She glanced at him. "Bel…" she said quietly.

He looked at her.

"Why do you hate us so much?"

He smiled softly. "I don't hate you."

A smile twitched in her cheek, but she forced it away. "You know what I mean…"

"Humanity?" She nodded. "Because human's are the only creatures on earth that try to kill each other for revenge… only we can steal… only we start wars… we are not worthy of the world we've been given." He looked at her sharply. "You know that as well as I."

Her brow furrowed into a frown, she tossed her hair back so she was looking out across the city again, her face bathed in the artificial light. "No, I don't." She felt him start beside her. "Human's are guilty of a lot," she agreed, "but we're dominant for a reason. Give us a chance, Bel, you could be surprised."

"I gave up on humanity a while ago," he said, almost coldly.

Dylan scowled. "I'll never know why. You're one of us. I don't care if you have a soul like an animal, or even if you empathise with them much better. You are human. Get used it."

A small smile graced Jezebel's face as he half closed his eyes. "I'm used to it, but I'll help our friends as much as I can." He looked at her, from beneath his long lashes. "You should too."

Jezebel almost fell from the force of her glare. It was only her hand on his that stopped him from loosing all balance. Though he was officially a card of Delilah, and held a certain amount of sway in the society… this strange girl whom had come to get so close to him scared him like he never realised he could be scared. Yet at the same time, just like his half brother before him, he found himself inexplicably drawn to her.

"I love my life, Jezebel," she retorted coldly, "I love my queen ship, and I love my people. I would be this way, with or without my… my ability."

"Do not refer to it so coldly, Dyl," pleaded Jezebel, "it's a gift. My only gift to my friends is science. I'm a doctor. But you… you can…"

"Communicate with them," her voice was so harsh, it almost sounded like nails on a board, "I know…"

"I don't understand… why don't you like it?"

"I would have been left alone to look after my people if I didn't have it," she snapped back coldly, "I wouldn't have had to put up with your people on my back the whole time."

Jezebel shuddered. Her hate was unadulterated. He never understood how a girl who should have been brought up so sheltered could turn out so opinionated and cold. "You can't blame father," Jezebel replied, "your gift could be a great asset to Delilah-"

"No way," she snapped, "not a million years. Not after tonight. You tried to kill us tonight."

"The Card-master promised, after he saw you that he'd make there be a mistake…"

"You know so well that is so much bull," her words were harsh and cutting, her friend half wincing away from her, as though she was physically hurting him, she put her arms out in front of her and looked at her skinny arms.

"Look, Bel," she stated, "I was in the box right next to the stage. Look at my arms, look what your bomb did to me."

He looked. He could see little pinpricks of blood, slowly dripping down her fair skin. There were still very small bits of wood left in her skin. One's she evidently could not bring herself to pull out.

"This was a bomb that was not meant to do too much damage?" She dropped her arms to her side again. "If I hadn't been there, Mary could have died. Cain would have survived, his reactions are lightening, but Mary only could because I pulled her under me. Jezebel… that bomb only didn't go off properly because of a fault, not because your father ordered it to be dulled. This was an attack gone wrong- by accident."

"How can you tell?" asked Jezebel curiously.

She shrugged. "Few hints. The fact that it blew up so much, but killed so few- that was meant to kill, not simply to harm." The man looked at her sceptically. She sighed. "I had a few friends tell me of what was going on."

"Ones you know?"

"Nah… made some new ones."

"When did you have the time?!"

She sighed, "human's can't communicate directly with animals, even if they can with us. We're just to blind to notice."

"You're not."

"No…" she replied through gritted teeth, "I'm not." She hated the fact that Jezebel was so jealous of the fact that she could communicate with the animal kingdom. She didn't understand why he wanted the power so much. It seemed to simply bring hell to herself ever since she was little. "It's not just vocally I communicate with them, it's… it's through the mind as well."

"Telepathy?!"

Her large eyes stared at him. "It has a name…" she said flatly.

He gained a sort of half smile. "Sort of. Tele as in the greek for distant, because this communication is through a certain amount of distance and pathetic as in patheia, which is 'to be affected by'. So because you transmit thoughts, it's rather fitting."

She simply stared at him. "You do realise definitions normally bounce right off my head."

That made him laugh.

Dylan was so surprised. In all her time for knowing Jezebel, she had never known him to laugh freely. It had always made her feel a slight glow when ever she managed to simply make him smile. To make him laugh was a feat she was always very proud of.

"Oh Dylan… why won't you join us?! Your gift could help us so much-"

"I want you to leave there," Dylan replied, her tone becoming icy again, "why the hell would I want to join it. I hate hypocrisy."

"But-"

"No. Bel, as much as I love you, there is no way I'm joining a society that simply does evil to the world and creates… things that should not be here. I mean… sacrifices, lazaras creatures, pure copies… it's not right! We are human-" he flinched, "not some sort of demigod. It's not right to play with nature."

"And that's how you speak with animals," snapped Jezebel.

"Yes," she replied, "I don't know why I have it. I don't know how. I just do. And I was not experimented on."

He opened his mouth to argue, but found himself with a finger to his lips. Hers.

"No," she said calmly, "I miss you. I love you. But no. When you break free of what ever hold Hargreaves has on you, I will help you with what ever you want. But till then?"

She shook her head

"He should not be revered… that demon," she snarled, she sounded almost like a wolf, "look at how he treats his children. He leaves his only daughter, and forgets her existence. He treated Cain so awfully. And you… he just…" she shuddered and reached out to touch Jezebel's cheek. He half winced away. Yet when he realised he touch was gentle, he laid a hand over hers, keep her hand close. "He's a demon. A devil. I hate the idea of you being near him."

"He's my father," he murmured, "the apple never falls far from the tree."

"The apple gets blown about by the winds of change as it falls."

He looked up at her, her eyes had become a piercing blue, one that seemed to see right through to the depths of his soul. Again it scared and attracted him towards her.

"Dylan Nymphadora O'Toole," he said softly, "what in God's name are you?"

"I dunno about God," she replied, "but I'm me. A black sheep and a trouble maker." She winked at him, smiling mischievously.

He laughed, and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead. A gesture she had sincerely missed from him. Her own father never touched her, her brothers saw her as a problem to the family. Jezebel was the closest thing to a big brother that she would ever have; and she loved him for it.

"Go home, Dylan," he whispered, stroking her hair, "before my little brother has another attack of heroism."

Dylan chuckled and stood. "You don't give him enough credit," she told the doctor, "he's a recluse and attracts trouble… but he's not a bad man." She bent and kissed Jezebel's cheek. "Stay safe, big brother," she murmured softly.

She turned and left Jezebel to his thoughts. The heels of her shoe not making a single sound on the concrete.

As she passed through the roof door, her hand snapped out immediately, trapping the little lackey against the wall. Her fingers were already tightening round his scrawny neck.

"Where's the other one?" she said, flatly, without even glancing at him.

The boy felt his skin pimple with goose bumps, though he was attempting to claw at her hand and squirm his was out of her grip. But she was so strong. She appeared to be the usual dainty lady, but this proved that all wrong. No lady or any description was so strong.

"Which other one?" he croaked.

"Small, black hair, handy with knives, moves and speaks like a man… Cassian."

She liked Cassian. He was a decent guy, and always treated Dylan with enough respect that he knew of her history, but enough casualness so she felt at ease. She had always wandered at his age, he spoke with too much fluency to be the age he presented to the world.

"I don't know," the boy gasped, "I was just taken in to serve the doctor! Let me go! I can't breathe."

Dylan finally turned her cat like eyes on him. He saw them almost reflect the light, just like a cat's would. Her grip tightened. "And why should I do that?" she asked, as the boy's face turned redder and redder, bordering on purple.

"Because I live to serve your doctor!" he pleaded desperately.

"Pah," dismissed Dylan, she let him go. He hit the ground with a thump, gasping back the air denied him. "You serve the card-master," her eyes narrowed at him, "you make sure you look after the doctor… otherwise I will find you and I will make you pay. You hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, still gasping for air.

She allowed a smile. "Good boy. Now go to your master."

Falling over his own feet to get away from this… this being! The boy scarpered out onto the roof. As he left, he did not even hear her shoes make a sound on the hard floor, but as he looked back, she was no longer there.

"Sir…" said the boy, coming towards Jezebel, who now stood. His shoulders were squared, facing the city, his long silver hair flapped in the breeze. "Who is she?"

The doctor looked down at him. "She's Lady Dylan Sedgewell. Surely you've heard of them?"

The boy nodded quickly. He also knew that she was the illegitimate daughter, adopted into the family to legitimise her. Everyone knew that.

"But who is she to delilah?"

"A would be asset. But she repeatedly turns us down."

"Why not be rid of her?"

"There is still time," the doctor replied gently, "she is only a teenager. There is still time. Besides, the card-master holds her family is very high esteem."

The doctor once more looked out on the city that sprawled before him. He let his gaze wander downwards, and he spotted a fleeing figure, in the shadows. He suspected it was Dylan. He sighed to himself.

'Stay safe, little sister, stay pure.'


	11. Returning To Questions

A/N: will i only ever get 2 reviews per chapter? c'mon guys! more that two people read it (well according to my accound ive gotten more than two hits on the last chapter... but anyway- on a higher note

thank you:

Jamra: thank u... ure makin me go all red -blush- glad ur enjoyin it so much

UchihaSayuri: LOL i think a proper cute scene was well over due - think it workd this time?

anyway enjoy chapter 10 XD

Returning to Questions

It was not till much later did the apartment bell rung. By that time Cain Hargreaves was rotating his half full whiskey glass in one hand, and glaring at the opposite wall. Oscar tried to talk to Cain, to get him to calm down, with little… no progress. Mary was asleep. She seemed to be perfectly calm about Dylan disappearing. She kept saying not to worry, that she'll come back when she's ready to.

Though Mary's words soothing Cain, his worry persisted. He did not even quite understand why he worried so much.

So when the door bell rang, and he sprung to his feet, almost dropping his glass, he hurriedly straightened his suit, and assumed a semi-angry expression, hoping Oscar had not noticed. If he had, he was not showing it.

Riff answered the door, and admitted a dishevelled Dylan Sedgewell into the room. Her hair was a mess, her dress was torn, the skirt was ripped to above her knee and her visible skin was covered in little cuts and there were still places were pieces of wood were lodged. It was as though she had gotten rid of the larger pieces, but could not bring herself to rid herself of the smaller.

"Lady Sedgewell," said Cain, in a low dangerous voice, "where have you been on a night where you have been attacked by a terrorist."

Shrugging, Dylan sighed. "Does that really matter? Right now I need a bath and-"

"Medical attention," said Riff, sounding very surprised, he came and stood behind her, "sir, I do understand your wish to know where my lady has been, but I do believe it best that I attend to her medical needs. If some of these cuts are not seen to they may turn septic."

Cain's eyes travelled from Riff to Dylan and back again. Though her eyes were brilliant and shifting again, her exhaustion was clear to see. As were the blond stains on her fair skin and now ruined dress.

"Do as you see fit, Riff," Cain sighed, "but once you have finished with her medical needs, make sure she is packed to leave- we head for the estates tonight. I do not want to risk another attack."

"As you wish sir," Riff bowed slightly at the waist, "come ma'am," he added to Dylan.

As she shot him a small glare, she following him without question to the room provided for her.

She remembered briefly how much she hated doctors examining her, even as a little girl. Though some how she felt strangely safe in Riff's hands. Though at the same time…

"Ma'am," coughed Riff, he was suddenly blushing, "please do not take me for something I am not, but would it be all right if you remove our outer garments? I wish to ensure any-"

"Yeah yeah yeah," she sighed, "I know tha' deal. Put up with doctors enough." She winked at him to show her insult was not directed at him. "Besides, I know what your like. Your trust worthy…"

Riff's flush deepened as she slipped off her torn dress.

Her undergarments were thankfully not all that revealing. Her corset was not all that tight, and was black rather than a rather flimsy colour that may have shown more, as most women would wear. She also seemed to practically wear short trousers beneath her dress. Made of similar material to her corset admittedly, but highly unusual for a girl of her rank.

She sat on a seat wincing, as blood still oozed from various pricks.

"Give me your left hand."

She looked startled and glanced between her hands as though trying to figure out which to hand to him.

"Forgive me,' she said, holding out the arm nearest to him, which incidentally was her left hand, "I am still unaware of the difference between left and right. I've always had difficulty telling the two apart."

A small smile graced Riff's face for a moment as his squinted at her arm, examining it closely.

"Not too much damage," he said finally, "you seemed to have escaped the blow with only surface wounds, but I will have to remove the rest of these splinters."

"How can you tell that from one arm?"

"Your left was closest to the stage, if that was badly harmed I would have examined the other two. But considering it is not, there is no need to check the other."

Dylan smiled at him. "I tried to get the splinters out, Riff, she said, "but a few hurt far too much. I fear some may already have some kind of infection."

"How can you tell?"

"It may just be bruising," she dismissed.

Riff frowned but nodded. "Wait a moment, I know I have tweezers amongst my belongings. Wait a moment."

"I'm not going any where, my dear Riff." she chuckled, "in this dress?"

Bowing at the waist, Riff left the room, closing the door behind him.

She sat for a moment, feeling very out of place in her undergarments. In a room she did not belong in.

But soon enough the door reopened. Only this time it clicked locked behind they entered.

"That was fa- Cain!" she ended in a shriek, her hands immediately reaching out to grab her dress back to cover her exposed self. She did not get that far. In a flash Cain was by her side, wrists caught up in his own slim hands.

"Where the hell were you tonight?" he hissed.

"Let me go…" she muttered through gritted teeth, "let me go now or you will regret it."

"Answer me," he retorted, calmly, pulling both her wrists into one of his own hands, and pulling her close to himself, "and I will let you go. Where were you?"

"What's it to you?" she snapped, "I am back, I have no betrayed you to Delilah. Do you think I would be allowed back here if I have?"

"Stop talking in riddles girl."

Her eyes narrowed and not a moment later her knee jarred against her jaw sending him flying across the room. He landed against her chest of draws. He touched his chin. It was tender, but not bleeding. His head was spinning, as though he had inhaled some form of illicit smoke. As he tried to stand, his body shook slightly with the shock.

As he stood he leaned heavily on the chest he had landed against. Looking across the room, Dylan was standing, her feet shoulder width apart, her arms seemingly loose by her side. But her whole body tense.

"I wish you would not insult me so," she murmured, so quietly, Cain half wandered if she had truly spoken at all, "all I have is love for your sister, my best friend and her best interests at heart. And as such, your best interests too. You are not a bad man, but you are arrogant and demanding. You must leave somethings be."

"Delilah is my fight-"

"Yes, but I am separate from Delilah. My knowledge is from a different means and for different reasons. I would much rather die by the hands of Jack the Ripper than join such a society."

Had she been on the street, she would have spat on the ground. Considering she was in a flat, she stopped herself.

"Do not judge me, master wolf. For the time being you have no right to. You know nothing of me. Not of who or what I am. I wish to have no quarrel with the Hargreaves; one I love with all my heart. Another I want dead. A third?" She shrugged. "We shall see."

"What is your quarrel with my father?"

"A matter that I will resolve, do not worry of it."

She relaxed, and walked over to him. Cain was suddenly aware of how little she was wearing. Previously it was anger the spurred him on, he had taken little… well, no notice of the garrets she wore.

Though the corset and shorts covered more than most conventional underwear would, she was still in her underwear. He could clearly see the shapes her waist hips and bust made. Though she was rather small, her legs were long and shapely. Her arms were slender and her shoulders petite.

She walked right up to him, reaching up to touch where she smacked him. He shuddered as her fingers brushed the bruise.

"I am sorry, my earl of poisons," she said mildly, "I did not wish to harm you. But I did warn you to let me go."

Though her eyes kept hold of his, it was an effort for him not to take a closer look of what was so close to him. The twinkle in her eyes made him realise that she was in fact teasing him. He wanted to be annoyed by it. He wanted to hate it. But he could by no means bring himself to. She was far to interesting. Furthermore, to meet a young woman with such audacity and such little care for her apparel never happened in their society.

"You did warn me," he agreed. He stepped past her, almost regretfully, "good night, Dylan, I shall see you tomorrow."

She gave him a mock curtsy, unfortunately giving him a most graphic view of her shapely, though slim body. "In the morning, master wolf." She stood straighter, meeting him right in the eye, standing as though fully dressed.

He left quickly, returning to his own room very fast. He shut the door quietly, and leant against the wood frame, breathing heavily.

It had been so long since any woman had managed to make him feel so oddly at ease with her, but excite an unwanted passion within him at the same time.

Yet in this case, it was by no means consensual on his behalf. It simply rose in his chest as an angry beast. And she? She teased it, knowing all too well what she was perfectly capable.

The more Cain thought about it, the more he realised. She was most definitely not a girl who knew little about the adult world and tricks. Though he could not see her as a 'street tart in fancy dress', he realised then that there was perhaps a little more to her analogy than she let on.

Meanwhile back in her room, Dylan chuckled to herself. She loved to be able to scare people in different ways. She had figured out early on that Cain would often tease women with half innocent, stolen kisses. Because such girls were so innocent to the rest of the world, they would be shocked and flattered by such gestures. However, such things simply bounced off her.

As revenge for hurting her, she decided it would be best to used her sexuality against him, and by the flush creeping to his cheeks as he fled, it had worked all too well. Though admittedly it must have revealed a little more about herself; how confident she was with a man in such little clothing for example, she decided the out come of her teasing was most definitely a just out come.

Riff returned not long after, finding Dylan half asleep on her chair. He walked over, closing the door behind him, and put a gentle hand on the back of her head.

"Dylan?" he said softly.

"Mmm?"

"Hold out an arm, I shall try to remove them with as little pain as possible, but it will sting a bit. I will be putting alcohol to clear the wounds as I go."

"I'll be ok," she murmured sleepily, "I trust you."

Riff seemed to have guessed as much as she held out an arm for him to work on.

Despite her hard exterior, she was a lovely, friendly girl. He simply wandered when she was going to expose that side to her to Cain. He had seen the relationship between the teenagers grow. Though they continued to banter and tease one another, a closeness was forming that would be lost if they did not act soon.


	12. The Morning After

A/N: I really am doomed to only two reviews par chapter :[ but thank u 2 mi 2 reviewer XD

Jamra- (I know ur sn is PowderHair, but I'm so used to callin u Jamra by nw :P) thank u so much!!!! Ur reviews always make me smile :D am glad u still like it.

UchihaSayuri- LOL it had 2 sooner or l8r ; still reading it? Still liking it?

Sorry it's taken me so long 2 update!!! Stuff came up :[ enjoy chapter 11!!!

The Morning After

The clocks chimed seven am when Cain awoke. He did not understand why he was so awake, but he did not mind. He hoped to catch Dylan. But once Riff had helped to him dress and arranged for his meal, he found himself to be quite alone at the breakfast table.

He was momentarily confused, till a small voice came; "She's asleep Cain."

Looking towards the corridor where both girls rooms were, her saw Mary rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her tiny body lost in the thick warm fabric of the dressing gown she draped about herself. Her little slippers slapped the floor beneath her feet.

She pulled herself into the seat beside her big brother. She had a half evil grin on her face as she looked at her.

"How did you get that lovely bruise on your chin, brother dear?", she asked sweetly. Her fair face, framed with messy golden locks with large gazing blue eyes, looking positively angelic. Which meant only one thing; she was up to something. Besides that, she knew exactly what had happened. Or had least guessed part of it.

He touched his chin with a delicate forefinger. It hurt to touch. "How bad is it?"

"Oh it's only a little red, with a little blue."

He sighed in relief. Evidently Dylan was far stronger than she let on, but could exert a certain amount of control over the strength she possessed.

"So what happened?"

"Dylan and I had a slight… disagreement last night."

Little by little, Mary's happy, smug expression faded and turned to one more of distaste. "You asked her where she had been," she stated, almost angrily.

He paused, then nodded.

Reaching out Mary prodded the tender bruise hard. Cain half jumped in his seat, grunting in pain.

"What was that for?!" he demanded.

"For irritating Dylan. Haven't you leaned, big brother? If she wanted to tell you where she was going, she would have! Do not irritate her… As much as I love her, I know all too well how dangerous she can be if she has been upset."

Cain looked at his little sister, his head titled slightly. Her little face was full of wander, curiosity and possibly a little worry, rather than fear. Evidently Mary was far more worried about how Cain and Dylan interacted rather than how 'dangerous' she was.

"What do you mean by dangerous?" he said aloud.

She looked at him sharply. "No. I'm not telling you. If she wants to tell you, she will."

"But it could be import-"

"Friendship and trust is far more important Cain." She reached out and touched his razor sharp cheek bone lightly, her little hand resting against his face. "I do not wish to keep so much from you, dear brother, but Dylan is my friend… my sister."

The older boy laid a hand over Mary's own little soft hand. "I know, darling, but I do just want you to be safe. I know so little of this Dylan Sedgewell, I worry. How do I know she's not… who she appears to be."

"Because I have known her all my life? Give me some credit."

"I just wish I knew more about her."

This sparked another glimmer of cheekiness in Mary's sweet face. She sat back in her chair, and watched him quietly for a moment.

Cain got the strangest feeling that his little sister was analysing him.

It was then Riff returned with Cain's meal, and set it before him. He asked Mary what she would like, she replied with bread and jam which Riff nodded and departed again to prepare.

"So… you want to know more about her, eh?"

It took a moment for what Mary had said to sink in. When he did he half chocked on his tea. "Mary-Weather! What is _that _supposed to mean?!"

"Well… you have been paying a lot of attention to her… I caught you staring at her last night. And all that…" she smirked, "contact? You loved her fall on you! I could see it!"

A grin graced Cain's face. How he loved his little sister's imagination, her little fantasies. They were extremely amusing, if very… annoying. He was glad she had not stated in in front of Dylan as his reply would have appeared almost rude.

"Mary… dearest Mary… I love your imagination. So vivid!"

A scowl appeared on the little girl's face. "Don't patronise me, big brother."

"I'm not! I just wish you would think such things through," it was his turn to smirk, "besides… do you think such a girl would tolerate me?"

It only took Mary a moment to consider. "No," she replied, quite easily, "she would kill you if you ever even tried to show such affection."

Unfortunately, the way Mary stated so manner-of-factly that Dylan would kill, Cain honestly would not have put it passed the younger woman. It did nit help that he had learned from experience that she hardly had the mostly forgiving of dispositions.

And yet again, Cain's curiosity had been ignited. Could Dylan really kill? Or could she get others to do it? How would she have such connections? How would they have met?! Hardly garden party type people…

There was too much to learn about her. Cain sure as hell did not have the patience. But he was certain, over time he would come to find the answers on his own. Especially if she had any connection with his father's organisation; no matter how minute.

He finished off his breakfast with Mary by the time Dylan and Oscar joined them.

Dylan looked a little off colour, her cheeks were flushed. As she sat at the table, her balances very slightly off centre.

"Morning," she mumbled, she glanced at Cain's chin, and his a sleepy smile, "midnight brawls are not recommended my dear earl," she muttered.

Cain frowned at her. He'd never seen her in such a state. He glanced at Mary; she didn't look all that worried. She patted Dylan's hand, kissed her cheek and settled beside her, as though this was not unusual.

"Miss Dylan?" asked Cain, cautiously, as Oscar asked Riff (exceedingly politely) for some breakfast, "are you feeling well?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes a dark green, but not dull. "I'm fine. A little tired, I'll admit," she sighed, "but otherwise none the worse for wear. Riff?"

"Yes?" the man stood up a little straighter.

"Could you remove my bandages after breakfast?"

"Of coarse," he smiled slightly, "what would you like for breakfast?"

She considered for a moment, before asking for bread and jam.

"Are you sure?" asked Cain, he looked genuinely worried for her, "you look very pale."

Looking at him sharply, Dylan found herself wandering what was Cain's angle. He sounded genuinely worried about her. Her head titled slightly as she studied his face.

In that same moment, Cain found himself comparing the girl before to a cat, or a panther or… the choices to compare her too were endless. She was very much like an animal, he realised. The way she cocked her head to the side as she considered things, the way her eyes brightened and dulled according to her emotions and her physical health.

It was a most unusual thing to decide about the girl. But nonetheless, he could not reason any other way; there was something very animalistic about Dylan.

"I am fine, dearest wolf," she smirked, "nights such as last are not exactly easy on my body."

He had to force himself not to laugh, he was almost happy to hear that name again. "Very well then, lady," he could see a muscle twitching in her cheek, "we are to leave this morning, to arrive at the estates as soon as possible. I do not thinking staying in the city would be a good idea."

Dylan said nothing, but nodded. Cain assumed she was simply tired, it had been very late in the night by the time she got back, and she had been in a state the night before.

Later that morning, once they were packed and ready to leave, it was obvious that Dylan was back to her old self once again. She and Mary were whispering together, teasing Oscar.

All the way home, Cain found himself analysing Dylan. Though she seemed to slip easily between childish and grown up. He was not entirely sure which was her true face. At the same time, she obviously cared for Mary as much as she said; but what was she really like?

What was her favourite colour?

Did she like her father?

What did she think of Jack the Ripper… who could he be?

What books did she like reading?

He knew she was involved with Delilah. She knew his half brother, and of his father. She was feisty and fiercely independent.

He knew all that, but he wanted to know things like that. He felt almost bad for thinking she was such an evil person. Though he was not sure he could trust her, he wandered what sort of impression he would get of her then?

After a while Mary had dozed off in Dylan's lap, the older girls fingers trailing through the blonde hair sprawled across her lap.

It was only Dylan and Cain in the carriage awake. Riff had insisted on sitting with the driver, to keep a better out look he had said.

"Dylan?"

"Cain?"

The use of his first name surprised him. Had she called him Cain before? Had it been so… so sweetly said?

"What's your favourite colour?"

"What?" her head snapped towards him, eye brows raised in complete confusion. "My darling earl, are you sure you are not the one effected?"

"I'm fine," he smiled at her.

It was her own shock that made her smile back. It was by no means a false smile, but an unguarded one. Almost sweet but for her arrogance that seemed to surround her. Though she covered that well…

When she wanted to.

"Orange," she said finally, "deep, dark rich orange, almost red, but not so harsh…"

"That particular shade? Any reason?"

"It's just beautiful… and that is the colour in most sunsets." Her eyes turned slightly misty, almost remembering. She looked oddly vulnerable, but knew that was probably very unlikely.

"I like green."

"I thought you'd like red."

He chuckled. "I'm not surprised. I thought you would have liked purple…"

"Why?"

"Would you like purple or me like green?"

"You like green."

"The colour of grass… leaves… in the rainbow… it's a very… natural colour."

Dylan looked at him, again her head titled to the side as she watched him.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" her neck straightened.

"Titling your head."

She chuckled, a hand going to the back of her neck. "My my, isn't the poisonous wolf observant."

"I must be, am I wrong?"

She shook her head. "I don't know… I like to see things from a different perspective. Maybe I can work it out then."

"You trying to work me out?"

She nodded. "I do not understand you…"

It was his turn to look curious and confused. "You don't?"

"Well… you are so protective over your little sister, you want to save the world from Delilah. You don't seem to trust me, yet you worry about me. You look after me. And… you asked me what my favourite colour is."

"You replied."

She titled her head again, then nodded. "I guess…" she shook her head, "I do not know why though…"

"Dylan?"

"Mmm?"

"Do…"

"What?"

"What books do you like reading?"

She smiled at that. "You are a very strange man, my dear Cain." Her eyes were glinting brightly. "Mary would be happy you are being so familiar with me."

"I just wish to get a clearer picture of the person who has been sharing my life for the past week or so… so much has happened. I feel… that I have probably been unfair to you."

"Cain?"

"Yes."

"I understand. I would do exactly the same. For Mary."

He nodded. "For Mary…" he repeated after her.

She smiled at him. All arrogance gone. It was simply a pure, little smile, on a face that had never looked so peaceful. Not towards Cain that was.

It was when it was almost her two week stay was over when Lily Sedgewell came to visit. It was only a momentary visit, on her way to pick up her unwell mother. The simple fact that _that _was the reason for her visit made her very unwelcome.

"I'm not coming home."

It was simple as that. The moment Lilly Sedgewell explained that was where she was headed for.

"Why ever not?!" asked Lilly, clearly very surprised.

"When ever your mother is unwell, mama, she comes to stay with us. And every time without fail I must endure her unending criticisms. I do not think I could stand just simply taking what she has to say. I cannot take want she has to say about me."

Dylan's face had been hardened, her arms crossed over her cream, summer dress. She looked angry, though no anger was directed at her stepmother. Her eyes were flashing dark colours. Cain had no idea what to do. He simply sat and watched.

"But darling, where would you stay?"

"Anywhere, ma. But I am no going home. I will not be subjected to her… her slander! To talk of another in speculation as many ladies do is one thing. But to present such things as truth! Mother, Lilly, I will no longer put up with it. As such I fear I will embarrass you, and insult her."

Lily studied the young girl's face. Cain to watched Dylan's features. They were set, as if in stone. Immovable and timeless.

"Where would you stay?" asked Lily again, gently, reaching out to take her hand, Dylan let her, but her face did not move.

"She can stay with us!" said a little voice.

Lily and Cain's head's whipped round, but Dylan was smiling, as though she had known it was going to happen.

"Sorry?" said Lady Lily in surprise.

"She can stay with us till then. Can't she Cain? It'll be no trouble."

Lily turned to Cain. "Are you sure my lord?"

Cain was momentarily taken a back, then he smiled gently. "Of coarse! Having Dylan stay with us has been refreshing."

Dylan looked at him, a smirk on her mouth. The two had barely spoken since their talk in the carriage, but there was certainly a truce between the two of them.

"It would be no trouble at all, though she may need some more clothing, I could have my butler pick them up from the house."

"My lord, you are too kind," said Dylan, almost quietly.

Lily stood, and curtsied towards Cain. "My thanks, my lord, I know how stubborn Dylan is." She reached out and stroked the girl's hair fondly, "when she has said she will do something, nothing can stop her."

"I have seen, my lady," said Cain, standing, bowing at the waist, "but she is a delightful young woman; it is honestly no trouble at all."

The smile that lit up Lily's face was beautiful. It was clear to all those there that she cared very much for Dylan. "I must be on my way, I shall stop for a moment on the way back to check on Dylan."

Dylan stood and embraced her step mother, kissed her cheeks and stood back again smiling. "Please tell your mother I wish her better."

Nodding, Lily cupped Dylan's cheek, kissed her forehead.

Cain showed Lily out, as he left, he saw Dylan practically collapse onto her seat again, Mary by her side immediately, the two girls talking in low whispers together.

At the door Lily curtsied to Cain again.

"My lord you have no idea how in debated to you I am. I don't know what I would have done if you had not said you would take her in."

"Lady Sedgewell, from what I have seen, lady Dylan is a very resourceful girl, she would have found a way with or without my help."

"Of that I am certain." She inclined her head, "I shall see you tomorrow, about mid day. My mother will still insist on seeing her." Lily sighed almost sadly.

"Till then my lady." Cain bowed at the waist, took her little hand and kissed her knuckles softly.

He watched Lily's carriage leave for a moment, and then shut the door, before returning back to the entertainment room. Dylan was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, her dress spread about her, in her hands were a few cards, a look of concentration on her face as she seemed to think something through.

"Dylan?"

"Not now, wolfie," she replied, "I've almost won!"

Sure enough, a moment later she knocked shouting out "RUMI!"

She turned to look at Cain, pulling her knees up to her chest, looking up at him with her large ever changing eyes. "Yes?"

"Why do you not like you're step-grandmother?"

Dylan's face clouded, her eyes deepening to an angry shade of green. Again another animalistic trait, those ever changing eyes almost mirroring her mood.

"All she does is criticise," she said, stonily, Mary came round, and twined her arms round the older girl's neck, her chin resting on her shoulder.

Cain still looked on with curiosity. There had to be more to the story than simply that. She did not seem to be the sort of person who would keep a grudge like that for so long simply because someone criticised her.

Sighing, Dylan relented, seeing Cain was not likely to let this one go. Besides, though it was hardly comment knowledge, it was no family secret.

"Margaret Garland, my step-grandmother, has hated me ever since she found out of my existence. She does not seem to know why Lily took me in. So ever since, she has made my life a misery. I am told that when I was very young she doted on me, but as far as my memory goes, she has always treated me most disrespectfully and looked down upon me. My pride will not let me tolerate it."

Dylan shrugged.

"It is usually about my reputation, something she has heard, or probably made up. I used to try and pretend that it did not effect me. However, the harder I bite my tongue… the more it hurts… the more I need to speak out. I do not wish to do my family that embarrassment."

He nodded, then allowed a crooked smile. "Then yo are welcome to stay here for as long as you want, Dylan… but you must be warned… the wolf has now been owed a dept by the tart in fancy dress."

Dylan stared at him, then burst out laughing.

Her peels of laugher rang round the room. So happy they were, and free, so infectious, that Mary and Cain started to smile too, soon these turned to chuckles. It wasn't long after that all three were laughing, though none knew the source of their laughter.

Still grinning, Dylan stood again and excused herself to go and speak with Louise, the cook.

Mary was smiling to herself.

"What?" demanded Cain.

"Nothing…"

"What!"

"You don't suspect her any more?"

"Well I-" he stopped. He did not. At least for the moment. He knew her extra time with them would allow him to decide this further. But just then, she seemed to have the all clear. Even though there were still so many unanswered questions.

At the same time… she hardly fit the profile for a tarot card. From what he could tell.

But then, as always, Time was always the great betrayer… anything she did not wish for them to find out, would eventually come to light. Though Cain did not suspect her, it did not mean he would not keep his guard up.


	13. Some Family

A/N: to make up for not updating sooner than before, ive decided to update again : hope u enjoy it :P and thank u Jamra! U always update asap!!! Im so sorry I didn't update :[ meh stuff is stuff :

Enjoy the next chapter XD

Some Family?

The next morning, Dylan was awake as early as usual. Only this time, Cain was up early enough to see her bringing up her plate of food from the kitchen. He had never realised before how little she ate in the mornings.

"Are you sure that's enough for you?" he asked as he sat with her.

"Yes," she replied brightly, "I don't need much in the morning."

She looked up at him, then yet again she titled her head as she looked.

"What?" he asked.

Dylan's neck straightened as she noticed Cain mirroring her movements. It was incredibly odd for anyone to notice such a trait about her. She supposed Mary had gotten so used to her doing it, as had her family, and those who did not know her cared so little about what she was like or paid her little attention to notice such a thing.

Cain was most certainly a strange man.

"I was just wandering what you were to have for breakfast."

"Riff's gone down to get me something."

She nodded and returned to her meal. Some how did not like how Riff was so loyal to Cain. How he would do everything to what Cain wished to do. What Cain wanted, Cain got. It was incredibly strange.

Never before had she seen such devotion. She wandered at this close relationship. How it formed. Why it was there. And what there was in Riff's past that made so many of her little friends uneasy of him.

"Did Lily say anything to you as she left yesterday?"

"Yes…"

Dylan's eyes raised to meet his, they were flashing dark angry colours. Cain found himself suddenly very wary of her. She was a most formidable opponent. He had found that out the hard way. Almost subconsciously he touched his now healed chin. He by no means wanted a repeat.

"She would return today to see how you are and to make sure your belongings arrived all right. She seemed to think that there would be a problem with them."

Dylan rolled her eyes. "With my siblings, it is inevitable."

Chuckling, Cain was glad to see her back to her normal self. His talk with her in the carriage seemed to have left her somewhat disorientated since they returned to the estates. Yet more recently she had become far more like her real self. He supposed her loss of that little girl had hardly helped the situation.

"That does mean you will have to meet Margaret Garland."

"Wh- oh right… Lady Sedgewell's mother."

"She is not going to be very pleasant while she is here. Especially if I am in the room. Though I should think she will try to please you and tempt you to one of my sisters."

That earned her another laugh out of Cain, though this one was far more dry than his last.

"I have heard so little about the rest of your family."

"That is because there is so little to say."

"Really?"

"Well… yes. I have two older siblings, Sebastian and Albert, they are a year older than you, and twins."

"Identical?"

"Oh God no! Seb is… is a crook, Bert…" she trailed off and shook her head. "Then there is Charmaine. She's the more beautiful sister." She smiled softly, "she is two years younger than I. The only other girl is Gwenaviere. She's very clever, and most certainly a girl. But why am I even telling you this!"

"Warning me perhaps?"

Dylan smiled, crookedly nodding.

"Is it the five of you?"

"No no, we have two more brothers. Christopher and Jonathan. Jonny is only about four years old, and Christopher is nearly nine."

"You play governess to them all?"

Her head snapped towards him. "How do you know that?"

"Your mother said, when I asked for you to stay."

"Oh… right…" she nodded. "That I do. Even Seb and Bert. But it's more of a case of making sure they do what their being told more than anything else…" she trailed off. There was an unspoken comment there. Yet he knew what that was, 'they do not do as I tell them'.

"Margaret will of coarse show off about Charmaine's beauty to you, she's being trying to have people interested in my sisters for a long time. I hardly think that is fair… She is only a little girl."

Listening to her, Cain remembered what Mary had told him a while before, about how plain Dylan's sisters were, how it was Dylan that drew all the attention towards her instead. Yet they did not want Dylan married off before her little sisters. Though he suspected that it was hardly against Dylan's wishes to be married off, he did not understand why she said such things about the girls.

"What time will they arrive?" asked Dylan, snapping his out of his musings.

"About midday, according to lady Sedgwell."

"Expect them about one." Dylan looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His golden green eyes appeared to have misted over with thought. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Cain looked up startled. "I was simply wandering how Margaret Garland will be. She sounds like a… wonderful person."

Drinking her orange juice at the time, Dylan spluttered into her drink in the most unlady like fashion. It had been such a long time since he had seen her like that.

She put a napkin to her face, as she smiled. "You must excuse me, master wolf," this little out burst seemed to put her into better and far more normal spirits, "I simply have yet to hear anyone describe that woman as such a thing." She looked up at him, her eyes were a sparkling green, some how this seemed to signal to Cain that this mean she was up to no good.

"Oh but I must! I am to be meeting her for the first time… I would want to make an impression of the lady before she leaves… and it is her granddaughter staying with me."

"I am but a step-granddaughter, earl of poisons," Dylan said airily, "and an unwanted one of proof that marriage is not as sacred as many try to make that it is. As is Mary."

'As am I,' thought Cain, though he was hardly going to say such a thing out loud.

"As such, I must be treated with the utmost contempt."

Cain took his cue, it was almost as though they were acting, yet now it was far more of a game between them. By now Cain had learnt of her ways, and a little of her past. Though he did not know her well, he knew her enough to be able to treat her as an equal.

"Come come, surely that is not true,"

"You shall see soon enough," she stood up, but as she did so, Cain took her hand. She looked at him. "Is something the matter?" Her eyes were still sparkling with that glint that meant trouble.

"Do not do anything hasty, my lady tart," he said, only half seriously, "I would not want to loose you for a whim of an elder."

A delicate eye brow was raised on both sides.

"A tart you maybe, but fun you are too… besides… who says she need tempt me to any of her granddaughters, real or no."

There was that grin back again. Playful. Happy. And extremely cocky.

Yet again he could almost see her in men's working clothes, with those flat caps and a jaunty angle. Still very much a female, but too independent for dresses or the tailored suits that tied the aristocracy down.

Though yet again he could see her in a ball gown, the entire room in the palm of her hand. Her being the one in charge. Though at any of those ridiculous parties she would push herself into the back ground, and ignore most people. Cain could easily see her, however, being the hostess of such a party, with everyone gathering to try and see her. And she would not even need a man by her side to pull off such a feat.

"You nasty little tease," laughed Dylan, "now let me go, Louisa needs this plate back. I shall see you later, master wolf."

She twisted her wrist of his grip with ease, picked up her plate, winked at him and left, quite happily. She felt far more back to normal than she had done for a while. She had hardly realised how much Lisa's loss had effected her. It was only recently that she had started to feel any better.

And Cain's sudden question on the carriage on the way home had made her feel strangle uncomfortable and vulnerable. Yet now she was most certainly back in control. Just the way Dylan liked it.

Just as Dylan had predicted, Lily Sedgewell and Margaret Garland arrived at one o'clock. Fortunately, lunch was well on it's way to being ready, and would therefore be easier to feed mother and daughter before they left.

Not only had Dylan been right about the time of their arrival, but also she had been right about Lady Garland's attitude towards everyone there.

She was perfectly sweet to Mary, calling her "a depiction of angelic beauty" with "manners to rival any child born immediately to high class society".

The old woman did not even notice little Mary making faces behind her back. It took Cain a lot of self control not to let his mask of indifference drop every time Mary caught his eye.

Towards Cain she was very polite and complementary. She admired his estates openly and comment that he was "incredibly handsome for such a young man" and his maturity "was far beyond your years only expected of someone of your birth". But that only lead her onto talking of her own granddaughters, most obvious Charmaine. About how mature she was despite being nearly fifteen.

That whole time Dylan stayed quiet, and very still. She would make the odd comment to Lily, only to have Margaret give her a look that told her exactly what she thought of her.

It took just moment for Cain to understand why Dylan did not wish to be home when Margaret was there.

"I am so sorry you have had to put up with Dylan for so long," began Margaret finally, as Dylan gazed out the window the open expanse of their backyard.

Cain's eyes flicked towards her for moment, but Dylan had not moved. It was almost as though she was used to such comments.

"She can be so demanding at times," sighed Margaret Dramatically, "no understanding for those better than her."

"Mother!" cried out Lily, looking scandalised, Lily looked torn between rushing to her stepdaughters side, and reprimanding her mother face to face, "that is unfair."

"Hardly," dismissed Margaret, "she is an ungrateful, young woman. I would not have been surprised if she has already insulted Lord Cain already."

"I assure you, she has not," Cain stated, trying hard to keep his voice light, as though he had not heard the demeaning tones behind it.

"You have no need to be so polite simply because she is present," Margaret looked towards Dylan, "she knows her place in society." Her expression was that of pure loathing.

To Cain's surprise, Dylan looked back. He could not see her eyes clearly from his angle, but from her almost happy tone he could imagine that glint within them. Stubborn, mischievous and carefree. Most Dylan like.

"Of coarse, madame," she said, quite calmly, smiling, "you are right. I have always known, and I must thank you for never letting me forget my place."

Lily's expression went from sadness, to confusion to almost smug happiness as she glanced at Dylan's face, then back to her mother's. She was so obviously pleased with her. Though it was clearly not the first time the younger girl had said such a thing. Though it could have been a complement, no one could have denied the impertinence of the comment.

"How dare you!" burst out Margaret, shaking in indignation, "I, who am your elder and better! Such lack of manners."

Dylan gazed back, with wide eyes, her mouth twisted into a crooked smile. She was pleased with the results. That much was clear.

"I am so sorry, Lord Cain, it is painfully obvious where origins lie. Some can forget their pasts in the slums, but there are a few," she looked back towards Dylan, "who's origins are ingrained."

Yet still Dylan looked at Margaret. Never allowing her gaze to drop away.

"No no, lady Margaret, she had been most delightful while she has been here," by this point he had given up the impartial facade, "she is a most proper lady."

Dylan looked at Cain, her eyes crossed in confusion. Their eyes met as the two smiled at each other, quite contentedly. It only lasted a moment, Cain's eyes flicked back to Margaret almost immediately.

"Truly, my lord Cain, you are most certainly a wonderful person, so forgiving of such an impertinent young woman." Yet again Margaret seemed to over look anything that complemented Dylan. "You must meet my true grandchildren. They are far more respectful and agreeable. Charmaine especially, she is so very polite." Yet more advertising. More damnation of Dylan.

Somehow Cain found this far more funny than anything else.

Just at that moment, Riff walked in, announcing that lunch was ready. Lily helped her mother, as Mary excused herself to eat else where. Cain offered Dylan his arm, which she took almost gratefully, and followed the older two women.

"I can see your point," he murmured to Dylan, "she's…"

"Delightful?"

"Uh…" he glanced down at her, she was smirking again, but she seemed to not be directing this smirk entirely upon him. "That is one way of putting it."

Dylan chuckled. "It's like this every time," she sighed slightly. Cain could hear an almost longing in her tone.

"Can I make you a promise."

"Only if you can keep it."

"If she even comes to stay with you again, come to my estates- you will honestly be made _very_ welcome."

"What if you and Mary are not here?"

"The servants know you, and they will be told. I promise you Dyl, any time."

She stopped suddenly, looking up at him. He looked back at her, almost stonily. Her expression relaxed, into a rare proper smile. "Thanks."

She moved forewords, causing Cain to follow her lead. He smiled to himself. At least she had taken it. That in it's self had to mean something.

Lunch was an unspectacular affair. Lily kept trying to reprimand her mother, whilst apologising to Dylan constantly with expressions of worry. Margaret would constantly be criticising the poor young girl, while Dylan simply sat there and smiled.

The only thing Cain did not understand was why Dylan did not express her dislike for the old woman openly. It was all snide little remarks, all hidden by a mask of heavenly goodness. Or supposedly just that. Margaret was having none of it.

Then again, Dylan was held her family above all else. She always tried to keep up appearances for them, not wanting trouble for them. She looked after her siblings no complaints. She put up with social outings and stares when they asked her to. It seemed to go against her free willed nature, but at the same time, it tied in with her obvious loyalty to those she loved.

Towards the end of the meal, a servant came to saying there had been a slight issue with the clothing of Lady Dylan's, if she could come and ensure they were in fact her clothes.

Lily looked towards Dylan, apologising with her eyes. Dylan smiled at her brightly, taking a sip of her white wine, almost to show that she was entirely unaffected by what Margaret had been saying.

Dylan kept quiet, as Cain struggled to keep up the conversation with Margaret. Yet he was saved by Riff walking in saying Mary had slipped up and cut her knee.

Both Dylan and Cain were at their feet immediately, Cain could not miss the expression of deathly worry twisting the young woman's pretty face.

"Dylan sit down," snapped Margaret angrily, "a young lady must not jump to her feet. If she wishes to show concern, a hand to the mouth is enough."

Dylan's eyes found Margaret's face as the old woman took a sip of her drink. She sat down slowly, her lower lip caught in her teeth angrily.

"My lord, people come to her," said Riff, "it is not serious, but she is in pain."

"Of coarse," Cain stood, and bowed at the waist, "please excuse me ladies."

As he left he glanced back at Dylan eyes were flashing angrily at the older woman. He resolved that it would probably be a good idea to come back very soon.

Little over ten minutes had passed when Cain came back to the two in the dining room. Mary's knee had not been hurt all that badly, she had been more in shock than anything else, but it did not mean she did not deserved the attention she needed from her brother just then.

As he laid a hand on the door handle, there came a crash from inside the room. Cain walked in seeing Margaret looking serene as ever, while Dylan was on her feet yet again, her hands curled into fists. Her plate was on the floor, broken to pieces.

"Now look what you have done, you stupid girl," Margaret stated quietly, "how dare you waste Lord Cain's food and ruin his cutlery."

"Yo-you-" stammered Dylan, her eyes were wild, her breathing was heavy, then she seemed to calm herself, "I am sorry my lord Cain, I did not mean to do such a thing." She had yet to look at him. Her eyes were fixed upon Margaret's calm expression. "But you, lady… you…" as though unable to take it any more, Dylan took a deep breath, and moved away from the table, towards the door.

"Dyl-" started Cain, taking her hand as she passed. Her head snapped towards him, he was startled to see her eyes filled with glossy tears, and eyes so thunderous. But he refused to let go. She put a hand on his chest and pushed him away purposefully, at the same time she twisted her wrist out of his grasp and ran from the room, her heels clicking on the floor.

Surprised, Cain looked down at his chest. Where her palm and touched there were four blots of blood. Dylan's blood he suspected.

"That ridiculous little girl," Margaret said, almost tiredly, "she refuses to listen to reason or truth."

It took Cain a moment, before he regained his composure. "She is young, and a little sister, my lady," Cain said quietly, coming to sit with her again, "she will learn one of these days."

"A slum child of her disposition?" stated Margaret, rolling her bluish green eyes, "I sincerely doubt that."

It took almost all of Cain's self control not to defend Dylan. It was neither the time, place or person to defend the girl's honour to.

Even later on, when Lily and Margaret was leaving, Dylan did not come down. Lily assured Cain that she had bid her stepdaughter good bye. Margaret of coarse sniffed and said there was no need.

Ignoring the remark, Cain turned his charm back on. He took the old lady's hand, and brushed his lips against her knuckles softly.

"It was wonderful to meet you, dear lady, I wish you well," he said.

"My my, lord Cain, you are a delightful young man, thank you very much," said the old woman happily, "I hope my illegitimate granddaughter does not give you any more cause for grief."

Instead of commenting, Cain simply nodded, and helped her into the carriage.

He turned finally to Lady Lily.

"I am sorry, very sorry for my mother's rudeness," Lily blushed professedly.

"Oh no no no," smiled Cain, "it was most… interesting having such an a woman in my house."

"All the same… I do hope Dylan's mood will not persist. She can be very irritable at times… especially after a spell with my mother."

"I shall ensure that is not the case my lady."

He bowed at the waist and kissed her knuckles, helping her to her carriage, "safe journey my lady."

Lady Lily smiled as Cain shut the door to the carriage. The horse pulled away, the driver cracking the whip for the animal to hurry.

Cain raised his hand for a moment, then dropped it and turned back to the house to meet Riff.

"Somehow I think i understand Dylan little better," he told the butler, "how is she?"

"I do not know, Cain, she is still in her room."

"And Mary?"

"Upset about her knee, but now far more upset about Dylan."

Cain nodded. "I shall try to speak with Dylan, check on Mary for me?"

"Of coarse my lord."

Cain made his way to the girl's room, knocking on her door.

"Come in," came the muffled voice.

Cain walked in, shutting the door behind him. Dylan was sitting at her dressing table, playing with her jewellery pieces. She seemed to occasionally glance at her self in the glass.

"Have you even wandered why?" asked Dylan.

"Why?"

"Why things happen… why… anything."

Cain found himself walking towards her, leaning against her table, looking down at her.

"Of coarse," he replied, "but Dylan?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let anything that woman… did get to you?"

"Huh?" her head shot up, her eyes meeting his almost suspiciously.

"Lady Margaret. I don't know what happened with you when I left you… but what ever it was, forget it."

Dylan relaxed. "I can't, but I can get pretty close."

Cain put his hand out, and touched her cheek softly. His fingers glided down to her chain, pushing her head up slightly, so he could see her face better. Her eyes were back to the shifting oceanic colours.

Everything about her was strange. Her mouth was wide, but her lips were full and soft. Her skin was soft and fair, but now closer to her, he could see smaller beauty marks, one in the corner of her left eye, another on her temple while another one hide in the dimple of her right cheek, her only dimple of her face. Her black hair was thick and rich in colour, but it felt almost coarse, not how a lady's hair should feel.

As he studied her, Dylan found herself wondering what was going through his head. Why his eyes were looking at her with such interest. It was hardly with the same hunger some young men would look at her, it had far more curiosity to it. He was hardly like most other men. He had more history and he actually seemed to think she had something decent to say. He never treated her like a moron.

"Cain?" she said softly.

He started and shook his head. He dropped his hand away from her, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Sorry," he murmured.

He moved to get up, but instead her felt a warm hand, callused hand close round his own.

"Don't be," she told him, her playful smirk was back, "I'm used to it." She winked cheekily.

She only half meant it. She was used to men staring. But she was not used to them actually looking so curious about _her_.

But Cain did not know that. He smiled in return. The frowned. "Dylan… how did you get blood on your hands?"

That made her start. She took back her hand and looked at her hands, frowning. The chuckled slightly.

"I got angry," she replied, holding her hands out for him to see. He bent to his knees, looking over her hands. The four marks on her palms were indicative of nails digging into her hand. He brushed his fingers over them, thinking hard.

He closed her hands, and laid his own on top thinking.

"Oi," she muttered, he looked up at her, "whachoo starin' at nah?"

"I was thinking," he grinned, "hows about another trip to London?"


	14. Unlucky 13

AN: sorry I haven't updated in so long but a few things have happened.

I'm in Australia here 2 visit family

mi granpa died 2 days after we got here and we scattered his ashes on Christmas morning so he could be apart of the ceremony (by the way, he was REALLY sick so we were expectin it 2 happen still a bit of a shock tho)

the internet currently works in only one of my relatives houses so it's been a bit of a pain even accessing my email- let alone anything else.

But anyway, im so sorry 2 my loyal readers!!!! I hope I haven't put u off entirely :''( here's my next chapter admittedly late and short, but I hope u like it.

And as usual thank u to my awesum reviewers!!! I love u muchly!!!

Jamra- oh u make me blush thank you tho!!! Ye I no… I sat there seething at her the whole time I was reading! Bt she's gr8 XD

UchihaSayuri- mwahahahaha- I finally managed to surprise u ;) this one mite give a bit of surprise as well

Crimson-luv-LOL u like it tht much?! Awesum XD

Like I sed guys- im so sorry it took me so long to update!!

Enjoy this chapter

Unlucky 13 cudn't think of anything else 2 call it :P

It was not until five days later did they find themselves in London yet again. Though it was no one's fault that they had been delayed so, Cain did admit that he had not needed to accept Lady Valantine's invitation for a 'small' gathering of friends. Of coarse Mary and Dylan were invited, Dylan had previously told Lady Valantine's daughter that she was a stuck up, impertinent young girl who should be spending her time with book rather than with a man. Though no one believe the young lady that Dylan had said such a thing, Dylan declined to go, therefore, Mary refused to.

As he left had Cain asked mildly, "so did you say such things to her?"

"Oh no," Dylan had dismissed brightly, smiling, "I called her a stupid whore."

That most certainly made Cain laugh. Of coarse the girl would put it so bluntly. He would have hardly put it passed her to put on her cockney accent to annoy the young lady even further.

In London they found themselves yet again in the company of Oscar. Dylan was delighted. She thoroughly enjoyed frustrating, teasing and talking with the disowned young man, as well as watching Mary and he interact. There was something almost sweet about it. Dylan was fairly sure Oscar's presented emotions were pure, only shown in a rather brash way.

It was this brash, naïvely blunt attitude that drew Dylan to him.

This Cain could hardly miss. On their first few days there, when Dylan and Mary were not together talking, or wandering through the markets (which was very often), Dylan could be found talking with or laughing at Oscar, and often Mary too.

Their interactions were always amusing to Cain. While Oscar was often left floundering for a way to answer her back, Dylan inevitably looked quite calm, her siren esq. eyes dancing with amusement.

He found it strange that he found himself studying her so closely. He knew he trusted her now, not entirely, there was still so much mystery to her, but he did not think her to be a liar and one to be wary of. Cain put it down to his curiosity, of wanting to know more of her. That perhaps his study of her may lead to some form of discovery.

Mary on the other hand found her brother's stares towards her friend so very entertaining. She could not tease him of it yet, but soon… But she found it strange that Dylan did not study her brother with just as much curiosity.

Most women deemed Cain Hargreaves to be incredibly intelligent and witty, failing that he was very pretty to look at; with his refined features and alluring golden green eyes. Even Mary had to admit her brother was beautiful.

It was on the fifth day that Dylan took her leave of her friends. She had told Mary the night before she intended to visit her people; though Mary wished to come, Dylan would not allow it.

"No way kiddo," grinned Dylan, lopsidedly, "I don' wanna loose yer with tha' rippa abow'."

"But Dylan…"

"No," she stated, no long smiling, Mary could see the serious worry in her eyes, before the older girl fell back into the relaxed back into her normal grin. "I don' wan' yer in trouble, yea? And summa's happenin there, an' I don' like i'."

Mary sighed, heavily, "as you wish… your majesty."

The next morning, Dylan and Cain found themselves sitting together at the table. Yet again Dylan seemed to eat a painfully small amount, though Cain himself knew that he himself by no means was a massive eater.

"Have you any plans for today, lady Tart?" he asked, the banter of these names they had given themselves never died down. It was almost as though they had forged a connection through naming themselves as such, and allowing the other to tease them in such a fashion.

"Oh yes, my poisonous earl," grinned Dylan, she was already dressed and ready for her day a head. Her canvas jeans and work man's top were beneath her light lilac dress.

It was a simple affair, the dress. Loose full sleeves, gown to the mid calf, and puffed out very slightly with layers of material. It was very much a dress to be worn out. But Cain still worried slightly. A woman out on her own was rather uncommon, and one as young as Dylan? Nigh impossible.

He did not wish to hurt her pride by asking to escort her part of the way. She was far to independent for such acts of chivalry.

"Might I inquire after them?"

"Oh just going about town. I might make a few visits to a few old friends at the like." For a moment an expression of sadness flitted through her features. It lasted a moment, but that was all Cain needed.

Dylan was still thinking of that little girl, Lisa. It had not been long since she had been laid to rest. Though Dylan seemed to be coping much better, there were times when she slowed for a moment. That moment had just according again.

"Will you visit her mother?" asked Cain, before he could stop himself.

"Yes," she said, quietly, returning to her breakfast, surprising Cain that Dylan was actually aware of what he meant, "I must. Hopefully I can visit her too."

He paused, then took a deep breath. "Dylan?"

"Yeah?" she looked up at him, her eyes had lost a little of their original sparkle.

"Would… would be so kind as to tell the little girl I say hello and send my best wishes to her mother?"

Blinking in surprise for a moment, Dylan's face broke ina a beautiful smile that practically radiated light. "Of coarse, Cain."

He nodded, returning to his own breakfast, to hide his blush.

A moment later, Dylan stood and collected her plate together. She left the room quietly, only to return a moment later.

"Riff is a most persuasive man," she said, almost dreamily, she appeared to snap out of her musings and walked back over to Cain, she sat on the arm of his chair purposefully, she was very aware of what her presence so close could do, but by then she figured that Cain had become immune, "please keep Mary occupied today, she'll probably be full of energy. She usually is. I shan't be back till rather late, so please don't fret. And I will see you this evening?"

On the other hand, Cain controlled his blush and looked up at her. He had gotten used to her surface beauty, that was easy enough. Look upon a person's face often enough and you memorise it. Cain had done this is Dylan's face, thus rendering the effect her beauty had on him _almost _useless. But her presence was another matter. Her so close to him still made his emotions go haywire, and he had yet to figure out why. He had seen Oscar become flustered if she sat too near, or even Riff.

"Of coarse, Dylan," he looked up at her and beamed, trying to forget the strange sensations in his stomach and chest, he stood so he was looked down into her face, "I do hope you have a good time."

Dylan too stood, she smiled at him. "Oh I'm sure I will."

On impulse she stood closer to him, reached up on her tip toes and brushed his cheek with her own soft lips.

"See you soon, master wolf," she murmured, before turning to leave, pausing only for a moment to collect her bag then to wish Riff farewell.

Cain on the other hand stood, dumbfounded, for a moment, hand to his cheek. That had been the first time a female outside his own family had made a move upon him first. Most girls he was accustomed to were far to shy.

Oh the mystery about the enigma known as Dylan Sedgewell deepened.

Walking quickly through the under growth of the city, Dylan had had little time to change into her normal more comfortable clothing. She could sense someone following her.

Besides that the cat by her side was more agitated that she had ever seen it cat before. His mind was a turmoil of thoughts, most of which consisted of 'it's not fair… leave her alone'. Dylan had originally thought that the cat had meant his mate, which was not exactly usual. She quickly realised the poor tomcat meant her, but knew all too well he could hardly do anything to help her.

She almost wanted to run, but she knew she couldn't. Besides, running in a dress was hardly the brightest idea in the world.

Instead she hurried on, taking sharper and sharper turns into the under growth, but still she could still feel that same feeling of being followed, being watched. She had to find a way to get away from them.

Normally she would have lost them immediately. But somehow they seemed to anticipate her every move.

She took a risk. She stopped suddenly. She could hear the foot steps behind her, they were getting closer and closer. Glancing round, Dylan backed off into a dingy doorway, hoping they would simply walk past her.

That was until she backed into someone.

She gasped, how could she not have noticed them there! Normally she could see everything.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, still not moving, glancing over her shoulder at this tall, broad man, his glasses glinted in the dim lighting of the early morning.

"No worries," he responded, "it's completely understandable."

The voice was cool, gentle and inhumanly calm. It sounded familiar to Dylan. And by no means in a comforting way. Without thinking twice she tried to move away from him, preparing to run, even in a dress. But his arms were out, and he had her little body trapped against his, a large hand clamped over her own.

He was strong. Far too strong for Dylan to break his hold, even as she calculated a move that would throw him off, she knew all too well he would not budge from his grip on her. She could not even use a usual childish trick of licking his hand, as they were gloved.

She was trapped and she knew it. He knew she knew it.

"Maybe now Lady Dylan will listen to what we have to say," he whispered in her ear, "and not be so irritatingly stubborn."

Dylan knew all too well when she was beat. She relaxed and waited for him to do his next move.

To her surprise, he did not move. Those footsteps were coming closer, and now were much much faster. As if the person was in a panic.

"Wondering what of my plans?" he asked, he had had enough dealings with the young woman to know very well that she would not struggle against him. But just to be on the safe side he did not release her just yet.

She nodded curtly, not evening trying to get free.

It was then the person who had been following her mad an appearance.

Long silver hair swept back, gaunt face twisted in to an expression of utter worry, long limbs almost running.

"Jezebel," said the man behind Dylan calmly, almost softly.

The tall man stopped immediately, his face drained entirely of any colour.

"Dylan?" he whispered.

She felt her mouth released, so she could reply. "Hey Jeza," she smiled, "you're father got to me first." She looked up at the older Hargreaves. "What do you want, Alexis?"

Alexis Hargreaves' smirk was unsettlingly the same as his younger son, his thumb brushed her jaw line. "You know all too well I want you."

"And you know I want nothing to do with you," she replied, coolly, "but you're not going to take my word for it are you."

"We'll persuade, my dearest," he whispered into her ear. She felt his hand leave her cheek, then have a pressure at the small of her back. The next thing she knew, she had landed in Jezebel's arms. "Take her back," Alexis told him, dangerously.

Jezebel tried to glare at his father. But he looked away almost immediately.

"Yes card master," he murmured.

Dylan looked up at him, but he could not bring himself to look at the shifting blue green eyes.

It was a shame, considering Dylan instead of looking disappointed she wanted him to see her smiling. She wanted him to see that she wasn't angry with him. As much as she wanted him to escape from the snare of Delilah, she also knew all too well that not only could he not, he would not. His want for his father's approval was too strong.

So she smiled at him. So he knew that she still loved him the same.

But he never saw.


	15. Of Rats and Devils

A/N: sorry it's taken me so long, but this chapter was hard to rite!!! but it's nice and long so it should keep you occupied- for a little while anyway. I only got two reviews tho :-( but thank u so much to my two reviewers XD you rock!!

UchihaSayuri: poor jizabel… he'll make it better though gotta luv jizabel!

TsubakiDesu: thank u so much!! I'm glad u enjoy it… I just hope I can keep u entertained :P

Hope u all enjoy chapter chappie 14

Of Rats and Devils

Jizabel hardly said a word to her, but Dylan did not begrudge him that. He was clearly a shamed of himself. Though she was not clear on why.

If he had been sent to capture her, he would have done it head on, and taken her straight as he always did. He would have taken her to the head quarters, and put her with a weaker lackey and she would escape as she always had. Yet something seemed to have gone wrong this time.

And Dylan knew very well that that it was by no means Jizabel's fault, or even doing. He was not that evil to those he cared for.

For he at least cared. Which was an amazing feat for someone put through so much by his own father whom he loved so dearly. Who extorted that love with no evidence of conscious.

She was lead, blind folded, down small enclosed places, the bouncing of sound off the walls told her that. How ever the rats, mice, cats and dogs were all strangers to her. They must have shifted head quarters since the last time they had tried to recruit her.

She entered by some sort of side door into a severely heated place. It was loud. Metals crashed against metals. Voices of humans hammered against her ears, while a clamour of animals clambered into her mind. Her skin heated and a sweat broke out behind her blindfold.

Slowly the noise of the humans faded as they took notice of the presence of the Card Master and a Card member. She slowly tuned out the sounds of the animals greeting her and warning her away.

Without a word, Dylan felt Jizabel push against the small of her back to keep moving. She complied quietly, head held high, spring in her step and the smallest of smug smiles against her lips.

As the left that room, the sounds of those human voices started again, though this time there was a trill of fear in all of them.

"Remove the blindfold, Jizabel," Alexis ordered, casually, "and release her wrists. She is a guest her, we would not want her to think ill of her hosts."

"I could _never _do that, Alexis," mocked Dylan, haughtily, "never of you."

As Jizabel removed her blindfold her murmured, "please be careful, he is by no means pleased with the world."

Suppressed a smirk, Dylan simply shrugged.

The blindfold came away and she blinked in the brightness of an open hall way, lined on one side with large windows.

The walls were a dull cream colour and completely bare. There were odd stains from past accidents, and several patches that looked fairly recent. The worst part it, Dylan could have sworn that the majority of them were blood stains. If she had been allowed, she would have found her suspicions to be correct.

"Allow me, miss Dylan," Alexis offered her his arm, in an almost gentlemanly fashion, "I will show you the way."

He looked almost exactly like Cain did when he was bantering with her. The difference was, Alexis' eyes cast an evil look, weather he be smiling or no. Cain's would be sparkling with laughter or mischief.

It was an aspect of the younger Hargreaves that allowed Dylan to divorce an similarities between the two. Cain was far more pure; tainted, of coarse, but more pure, more loving, more genuine. Alexis was Lucifer's missing identical twin.

Again forcing her true feelings of disgust, knowing she would soon have her own fun and revenge against this evil incarnate, Dylan took his arm, and smiled up at him.

"Thank you, Alexis," she replied lightly, "generous as ever."

Jizabel looked horrified, as though he knew all too well that this was entirely a charade; that Dylan was going to do something that would antagonise his father later.

"Jizabel, you may leave us now, I believe Moon wishes to have a word with you," his father stated, almost warmly.

"But-" started Jizabel, he stopped when Alexis' cold stare landed on his timid self. Wilting beneath the glower, Jizabel nodded, eyes towards Dylan, practically begging her not to do anything stupid.

Allowing herself to be lead away from the hall way, up the nearest flight of steps, Dylan looked back to see Jizabel looking worried though thoughtful, then walking away in slow, almost measured steps. She wandered for a moment what he was up to. But decided against doing anything about it. Jizabel occasionally had his out bursts of rebellion against his father, though they weren't many.

"You must forgive the most unusual form of invitation," Alexis announced quite suddenly, "but you must understand, a woman of your sort must be handled a specific way. I hope you understand."

"I understand, do not worry Alexis," Dylan replied, mildly, "though I am curious, of all the times I have been blind folded and lead, that was not a way that I had ever come before. Is this a new head quarters?"

There was a moment's pause, then there came Alexis' cold chuckle. Though it was not yet threatening. For the moment Dylan knew she was relatively safe within the devil's den.

"One must never underestimate a woman such as yourself, miss O'Toole," he murmured, then added more openly, "yes, we have moved."

"What was wrong with the other one?"

"We out grew it, we have come to far grander arrangements, this is a beneficiaries home."

"You took over it."

A pause. "Yes."

Dylan simply shrugged. That was the way things worked within the realm of Delilah. If they can, they will, nothing could stop them. She had grown used to it. Though it hardly meant she _liked _it. It was rather more acceptance of an existence she could not change.

Yet.

He lead her up two more flight of steps, behind closed doors, behind which were very quiet. Finally he reached a door which he opened into a large study.

She stepped in and shivered slightly. It was rather too cool for her liking, but not unbearable. All visible wall space was covered in books shelves, all heaving with the weight of the information contained in those large books. There were some jars containing pickled animals and pickled body parts. There were frames of insects. There were forms of stuffed animals and heads of game.

Another shivered shot through her spine, this time however was from the stench of death in that room. It was not only the dead animals surrounding her. The entire room felt dead. Though the small was not physical, she could feel it rather than smell it.

"Are you cold?" asked Alexis, his voice right by her ear.

She had sensed his presence close beside her long before he had spoken. Instead of even bothering to act as though she had not sensed him like most girls like her, she simply shook her head and stepped away from him.

Glancing round the room a last time, she allowed Alexis to pull her away to another side of the room and seat her in front of a large desk. She stared at it.

It was beautiful. Red wood, large, engraved with a story that she did not know or could make out from those pictures. She reached out and touched the wood, but with drew her hand quickly. It came away sticky, as she looked at her fingers, she could see there was a little red on her finger tips.

"Another gift from our benefactor," he said quietly, moving round and sitting on the edge of the desk, almost delicately.

"Of that," she stated tersely, "I am certain. Now, Alexis… _darling_," she added almost sarcastically, "what did you kidnap me from my walk for?"

Her tone was entirely friendly, entirely light. As though she had nothing against him what so ever. Though the two knew it was an act. Normally the banter was semi enjoyed; Dylan's love of teasing and annoying people who considered themselves higher than people such as herself combined with Alexis' love of wit and quick answers did mean that through the danger the two had some sort of sport that they both enjoyed and would perhaps bring them both what they wanted.

However, that day it seemed that Alexis was in a _very _bad mood. His brow furrowed at her as his arms left his sides and crossed. I direct sign that games were over. Yet she almost refused to take notice of the danger signs.

"Dylan, as much as your reputation as a clever sensible girl, you are by no means thus," Alexis practically spat at her. Instead of looking away, she stared back at him.

"Thanks to a certain woman in my life, whom I can't seem to get rid of," she replied, "I never forget it."

"You can hardly blame her. Born from wedlock. In their faces everyday-"

"Is that why you hate Cain?" Dylan asked suddenly, "he was a mistake of some kind in your life?" Alexis' face seemed to turn to stone, "that is it," she grinned at finding the reason why Jizabel hated Cain so much; they were both mistakes, but Cain was the one that was his heir. "He was not born from your wife, but you took him in anyway… why?"

"Because he was the son of the only woman I ever loved," he hissed at her, "but no one could accept that!"

"Why not?" Dylan's tone was almost gentle. It was clearly a subject that still caused him immense grief.

Looking surprised at her tone, the older man paused, before starting, slowly. "She was Augusta, my older sister," he paused to see her reaction. Instead of a look of disgust she simply looked at him curiously. He continued. "She fell pregnant, and it was clear to everyone who the father was. They wished to abort the child, saying it was unnatural-" he gave a short, harsh hollow laugh, "they said our _love _was unnatural."

"If a man and a woman love each other," Dylan said quietly, "how can it be unnatural." She was beginning to see a little in the madness that was Alexis Hargreaves' mind. "What happened of it? I am staying with Cain, so evidently they did not kill him."

"He was born, and my cousin Neil and I fought to keep the child alive. However…" there was a long pause here. Alexis looked out towards a book case, his hands gripped the edge of the desk, "Augusta went insane. Having her younger brother's son drove her to insanity and she died in an asylum."

Dylan's eyes widened. Asylums were torture chambers. She wandered what sort of family would send their daughter there! Even if she was stupid enough to get pregnant.

"And yet Cain lived," Alexis was bitter, "but he killed his mother. And everyday he was a constant reminder of her… that he killed her… that for him to exist I had to loose Augusta."

"Why do you look at it like that?" Dylan's voice came out in a whisper, barely audible but for the stillness within the room, "why could he not have been evidence of the love you two had? He's still a child, Alexis… he's only seventeen."

"So says the girl before me," he spat at her.

Alarm bells were going off in Dylan's head. She knew he was getting angry. She also knew even if she didn't push him he was going to pay for it. Not caring for her safety, her curiosity bested her autonomy. "I maybe sixteen," tone was neutral, "but the major difference between us is that the person we turned to loved us unconditionally."

There was the short, terse laugh again.

"It's true," she added, then stopped. She remembered how Cain's fingers would occasionally drift to his back when he was not concentrating, a look of pain across his face. She had originally thought it was some sort of nervous twitch he would get. Yet now, with the revelation of the intensity of how much his own father hated him, she wandered if that had anything to do with it. "You hurt him didn't you…" she murmured.

"What?" Alexis snapped.

Dylan looked up at him, the loathing in her molten now emerald green eyes could not be disguised. Even if she had tried to. "You hurt him," she repeated, obstinately, "you hurt him, then the kitty got to understand his teeth and claws better and hurt you back." Alexis froze. "Tell me its not true," she snarled at him.

Without him saying so she knew it was. It was his face that gave him away.

"The little brat tried to kill me-"

"I don' care," she snapped at him, surprising them both, "he was a child, Alexis, I don't know what you did to him, but it still hurts him. And you did it yourself no doubt… just like yer ter do summat like tha'!" Her anger made her put on accent flee, but she did not care. "A child needs 'is or 'er father! A' leas' some kinda paren'al figure. And wha' do yer do? Yer 'ur' 'im-!"

"That is enough," hissed Alexis, standing up drawing himself up to his full height.

"No it is not!" Dylan stood too, only because now she was near shouting, forcing herself to keep control of her accent and language, "I thought you cold hearted, devious and somewhat insane- but I see the reason for that was loosing the one woman you love-" Alexis' eyes seemed to soften, just for a moment, "but that is no excuse to hurt her _son_! Your son!"

"You know nothing," he snapped coldly, "that boy was not right. His eyes are gold, he did not cry as a child-"

"And you hit him for being different?! Oh now you sound like-"

"I am aware of that," the cool steely voice made Dylan start. He had never used such a tone with her before. The glare in his eyes scared her. It had been the first time she had felt scared of him, she sat again, slowly. "You know, child, I'm not even sure why I told you… about my son… about my love… how is it that you can extract any sort of information out of me?"

She shrugged, forcing herself to look him in the eyes. She could not show fear, so she showed anger instead. "An outlet. You allow a secret like that build up inside you and you're bound to explode. You tell someone… anyone… and you feel better. Or at least should do."

"Sassy as always," even his chuckle was cold, "I still do not understand Why you refused to join us."

"Because _this _is unnatural."

He frowned. "All we do is research how powers such as yours are given, there are all sorts of-"

"No, what you do is cult, black magic- what ever! Even your hierarchy is based in superstition. You only do things for your own personal gain. I don't know what your current angle is, I just know that it's dangerous," she was struggling to keep her cool. Her instincts were telling her to run. Alexis had never made her feel so scared in her life.

"It's strange how you seem to love one so fully apart of it," he mocked her.

"Only because the only thing he desires is your approval. You know that, and you will exploit that."

"Can you blame me," his smirk was back, and it was cold. Again she was reminded of the similarity between Alexis and Cain. "I will do anything to get what I want. You, and your contacts, are perfect for what we need. Mercenaries. Pickpockets. An anchor in the underworld-"

"I would never put my people in such danger. What they do with their own lives is up to them. If they are in trouble, I will help them. But I will _not _put them in that position initially. It is wrong."

"You have very confused beliefs of right and wrong," he had removed himself from the table and walked round to stand to the side of Dylan's chair, looking down at her from above. She was very aware that it was to make himself feel bigger.

"Not really. I don't kill. I look after. I associate with murders and assassins, but I do not protect them. I steal what I need. I steal for my people."

"How do you know this will not help your people?"

She looked up at him meeting his cold eyes directly. "Because any association with you I see as a threat to them."

Out of no where she felt a hand slap her face. She did not even see it coming it was so fast.

Her hand fled to her cheek, it stung like made. Then the faint tang of metallic filled her nostrils. Blood. Her hand reached for her skull and felt it come away sticky with red where it hit the back of the chair.

She felt dizzy. Her balance had gone entirely. The room looked slightly out of focus to her. She cursed. She knew she was concussed, and just then there was nothing she could do about it.

"Do not be so dismissive, Dylan dearest," Alexis' face was very up close to yours.

"It's the way I am," she declared, her speech careful so she could be made understood. She was shocked. Alexis would often threaten her, and he might slap her or try to, but he had never been so violent with her. She did not quite understand what had happened.

"I have met many a lady, girl, they need not be so."

"I am no lady," came her reply, slurred but audible, "I'm a protector and a freak. There is nothing of a lady about me."

"Oh you put yourself down so much," teased Alexis, mocking her, he walked round the chair, his hand on her shoulder, tracing a line up her neck, across her jaw and to her hair line, "how is it that a girl like you manages to make herself a queen? Gets the trust of so many low life's. You may have been one of them… but you were taken in."

"I did not forget my roots," was her only reply.

His fingers gripped into her hair and he wrenched her neck back with force. "Why are you so patronising," he snarled, "you call yourself a slum born, but you treat those higher than you like dirt."

She allowed herself a smile here. It was soft and gentle. Her eyes met Alexis' gaze with gentle touch. "That is because you are dirt," she stated mildly, "if that is what we are- that is what you are." He stared at her. "Surely the man heading the advanced sciences of Delilah would know all too well that no matter how a man woman or child dress up, in here," she pointed to her stomach, "under this," she pinched her skin, "we are all the same."

Alexis allowed his cold glare to linger for a moment before pulling her hair back so violently her body was pulled to the floor. A cry issued from her mouth as she hit the floor with a solid thud. She turned suddenly as she normally would to defend herself, but the room spun, and as she tried to rise to her feet her legs gave way under her. Her concussion was bad, not enough to damage her permanently, but she was out of action for a while. Just then, that was a deadly problem.

"You sound like some old preacher," Alexis sneered at her, "what happened to your lack of belief in God?"

"I'm not so sure about him," she snarled from the floor, trying to get her balance back, she focused her eyes on the hazy man standing before her. She could still make out his features, they were neutral, for the moment. "If he exists, I'm not entirely sure I like him… and anyway- it's religion I don't like… not the object of affection."

He barked a laugh at her. "How you have managed to live for so long I will never know."

He squatted to her level, fearing another blow, she back away from him. Though her face showed no sign of fear, simply anger, the adrenaline in her body was still trying to make her run, but with her legs not co-operating with the rest of her body, her balance non-existent and her vision all but gone, there was no chance of escape. Not without help.

"You say under the skin we are all the same," his disdainful hiss was back, "then how is it you are able to communicate with animals? That Crehador is able to communicate with spirits? That-"

"Those are mind issues," she said softly, not taking her eyes away from his, "we do not understand the human mind yet. These curses are to do with that. Some have them, some don't- until we know more about such afflictions, they are an issue of anomalies. And they have _nothing _to do with status."

Alexis put his head to one side, mimicking (without quite knowing it) Dylan's habit of doing so. He reached out and took her hand in his, and pulled her closer. Struggling weakly against him, knowing all too well that her loss of blood and damage to her head meant that she would pass out soon. Alas, she had to yield to his pull. He looked into her face closely.

"You talk as if you know such things… intimately."

"I know only what I learn by books and listening," she murmured.

"My my my… what a nosey little girl… so useful to have such a creature belong to Delilah… our little-" he paused, then let out a gusty laugh, "our little rat." He grinned at her sardonically. She recoiled away from him, why did he have to resemble his son so? There were so many aspects to him with separated from the younger man, but the similarities stabbed at her for some reason.

"I'm a freak," she murmured, "I would call myself a tart in fancy dress, and I am unfit and unworthy of the title my friends and peers have given me." She walled in her fear and glared straight into Alexis Hargreaves' eyes, "but I would never consider myself so low as to do any form of work for _your _people. You make me _sick_!"

"That's a shame, Dylan, my dear."

Dylan frowned. She didn't trust his almost light tone. It was laced with echoes of threats and revenge. "Why's that?"

"If one has no dealings with Delilah- Delilah shall deal with you."

There was a moment of confusion within Dylan's eyes, which was when Alexis chose to strike again. The force of the blow sent her reeling backwards, to the floor, she could feel her cheek begin to bruise. It was hot and it throbbed in time with her heart beat.

It had been so long since she had anyone even come close to hitting her with such force, she had forgotten how much it hurt her. It again reminded her why she had put herself through the training to gain speed as well as strength. Yet just then, both of those were of no use to her. Her head was woozy, her vision unfocused and her co-ordination went completely out the window.

He raised her hand to her again, and instinctively she winced and pulled away from him. She hated the reaction, but it was all she could do.

On hearing him chuckle, she opened her eyes slightly to see him standing over her, smirking down at her. Again she was reminded of the similarity between Alexis and Cain. At the same time, she was reminded of the differences between the characters.

Alexis bent over, and grabbed hold of Dylan wrist, pulling her closer to him. She squirmed and tried to pull herself away from the beast, to no avail.

"Poor little _rat_," he mocked.

She forced herself to glare at him. "I swear, Alexis, I will make you pay," she all but spat at him, all her fear had converted to anger and a thirst for revenge.

Though her sensible, and scared, side stopped her from spitting into his face. She did not want another blow to the face. She could not stand another wave of helplessness engulf her.

His laugh rang out as his grip on her wrist tightened, pulling her to her knees-

A knock at the door came.

Alexis looked down at Dylan, then towards the door.

"Yes?" he called, not letting her go.

The door creaked open and admitted Jizabel into the room. His eyes met Dylan's, but he looked towards his father. "Card master," he said softly, "there is an issue down stairs."

"What sort of issue?"

"Mikaila, she's not very happy at the moment. I can do nothing to calm her."

Alexis sighed heavily, and dropped Dylan to the floor. She pushed herself up to an attempt at a sitting position, but kept her eyes glued to the floor.

"I'll be there in a moment," Alexis said, "stay with your dear guest, I will send Moon up to help you."

As he stepped over her, Alexis kicked Dylan hard, the point of his shoe burying deep into the soft flesh of her flat belly.

"She might be down, but the girl is still dangerous.

As he reached the door he looked back at Dylan. Her hands were at her stomach, her breath coming in gasping pants.

"Be a good little girl," he teased, "I shall see how you are later."

Dylan looked up at him, eyes smouldering, though her shoulders heaved. "You are going to pay," she hissed at him, still trying to pull herself up.

Alexis simply laughed and left the room, closing the door with a sound click.


	16. Finding a Traitor, Loosing a Friend

Pride and Prejudice Script

chapter 15- Finding a Traitor, Loosing a Friend

Muttering angrily to herself, Dylan slowly hauled herself into a sitting position, and looked around. She was aware of Jezebel crouching next to her, then felt his hands touch her shoulder gently.

"Are you all right?" his tone soft.

"My head hurts," she muttered, forcing herself to keep the accent she despised. It meant that she still had control over herself. Next job was to get control of her surroundings. She looked at Jezebel, "what happened?"

He looked away, his expression stoney. Classic 'I'm ashamed' Jezebel action. She put a hand on his cheek and made him look at her.

"I don't blame you, you didn't do anything. What happened?"

"I was sent to kidnap you, as usual, but I wanted to warn you instead. Unfortunately this time father was watching, he warned me he would. I expected to catch you, warn you and let you over power me. I had no idea that he would do the job himself."

Dylan almost laughed. How she wished Jezebel could see through Alexis Hargreaves, but she doubted it would even happen. Not for a while. Though Jezebel was a creature of his father, he still had retained his soul.

She pushed herself into a standing position, her body swaying slightly. Jezebel caught her hand and allowed her to push against him to gain some sort of support. He knew all too well she would not accept an offer of any more than that.

"I'll get up," he said, "we need to get you out of here. He'll try to break you if he comes back."

As she stood without support for a moment, she chuckled, trying to keep balance, "how does he expect to do that? I have yet to meet a person who can do that."

Jezebel winced as he caught her hands again, now standing. "He has… his ways," he replied, "information about you… about those who you care about."

"About you?"

He shook his head. "The informant does not know about me."

Dylan began to shake, scared it was some form of side effect due to the beating she had taken, Jezebel turned her round so he could examine her eyes. But her eyes were now far more focused. Her shakes were due to anger, and an anger than would rage for a very long time.

"I'll kill them," she murmured, "I don't care who told him, I will kill them!"

Snatching her hands away from Jezebel, she hobbled round the huge desk, and flopped into the chair. She was by no means tired, but was definitely still dizzy. Though thankfully it was subsiding.

She stared at the desk before her, trying to figure out where the murderer might keep his gun.

A little desperate thought seeped into Dylan's mind. She caught it, and concentrated on her little friend who was trying to help her.

It's in the middle one, big sister. It was a mouse. A very small one.

Middle what?

Middle… the creature paused for a moment to find the right word in a way humans could understand them, draw in the big table. It's the banging thing you want right?

That's called a gun, little brother, Dylan explained, her eyes now closed softly, it's evil, I want to take it away from here.

Good! It makes too much noise… it makes humans go into the cold sleep.

I know, little brother, now go somewhere safe, I'll take care of things here.

Yes big sister!

She felt the little creature scurry away, then turned her attention to the middle draws. She could see Jezebel at the edge of her vision checking the door. She tugged them both open. On first glance she could see a little hand gun in the right hand draw.

Pulling it out she weighed it in her hand, it was light weight. But she knew very well how deadly it was.

"Dyl!" hissed Jezebel, "someone's coming!"

Pushing the gun into her trouser pocket, she dropped to the floor to hide. A moment later she heard Jezebel talking to someone at the door. She recognised the voice, and relaxed.

She pulled herself onto the chair and smiled, waiting for the flaxen haired gypsy to notice her.

Moon was beautiful as ever, her dark skin contrasted strikingly with her pale hair hair and dark beautiful eyes. She was taller than Dylan was, and far more graceful than Dylan ever would be.

Moon's eyes slide across the room momentarily, then she gasped, seeing her long time friend. Rushing into the room, Moon reached Dylan moments later, sweeping her into her arms, embracing her tightly.

"Careful," chuckled Dylan, "your lord and master just gave me a beating I'm not about to forget in a hurry."

Leaning back, Moon studied her face, scowling. The she sighed shaking her head. "Why reject him so, Dylan?" she asked, "you know it will only anger him further." She touched her friend's red cheek softly, then leaned foreword and kissed it softly. "He's not such a bad man," Moon insisted, "he just doesn't-"

But Dylan was already shaking her head. "Don't, Moon… I don't want in, and he will not leave me alone about it."

Shaking her head, Moon sighed, then turned to Jezebel. "We need to get her out of here, that brat will only keep the Card Master busy for so long."

Jezebel nodded, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Out through the cellar," he said finally, "we can take the servants route. The Card Master is not aware of them."

Dylan snorted. "Just like a Lord," she mumbled, "refusing to learn the ways of those who he employs."

The two tarot cards flicked their eyes towards each other, then back towards their friend. The only person outside of Delilah they each trusted with all their beings. Yet neither could bring themselves to trust each other.

"You take care of her," Moon instructed, "I'll make sure the ways are clear. I doubt the servants will tell… many of them no Dylan too well for that."

Unable to disagree, Jezebel simply grunted, rechecking Dylan's head wound and concussion, making her answer questions and checking her focus.

Her irritation was a clear indication in itself that she was back to normal. He almost welcomed her smack round the face when she got annoyed.

"Jesus Christ you don't have to be so pedantic and patronising!" she snapped, getting up, finding her balance steady and her feet obeying her commands, "can we go now? I'm itching to get my claws into that traitors hide."

"You do not even know who it is," Jezebel pointed out, guiding her towards the exit that Moon was now waving at for them to come to, it was a little door in the corner, one that one would forget as they looked at it, it blended in so well with the décor.

"I'll find out," Dylan promised, coldly. Suddenly, her threatening nature was back, in full force. Her eyes glistened with a poisonous green, her entire body tense, her fingers wrapped tightly round the handle of the gun. There was something entirely inhumane about her just then, and it both repulsed and attracted Jezebel to her.

Getting agitated, Moon began making larger gestures. Dylan nodded at her and turned to Jezebel.

"You stay here, tell him you went to the bathroom, locked the door behind you and when you came back I was gone or something."

"Why not knock me out?"

"Getting old."

Jezebel thought about it, then agreed. "True… well then go! I'll see you…"

"Soon," she smiled at him, and reached up to kiss his cheek, receiving a hug in return.

"Good luck," he murmured.

Pulling away from him, her mischievous grin was back. "I'm not one to rely on luck, Bel dear." She frowned slightly, "you on the other hand…" she pushed hair away from his back, looking into his eyes. "Keep safe, Bel… please?"

"I will."

Dylan smiled again, far more softly, and turned and left for the door. Moon quickly followed behind, closing the door behind them. She took her of her friend's hand and silently the two ran down the old stairs towards the exit.

Neither spoke a word. The whole time their ears strained for the tiniest noise. None came. Only the business of the rooms beside them leaked any sign of life. Of which the two took no notice.

That was until Dylan heard and recognised Alexis Hargreaves' voice.

She stopped suddenly on hearing a reference to her.

"She would be a great asset… if she could be persuaded to join," he was saying, "the issue is persuading her to join."

A voice, female, said irritably, "so offer her money or clothes or something."

"It can't be that way, my dear Mikaila, she needs none of them. She was adopted into high rank, but seems to care very little for it. Her love lies in the protection of the lower working classes."

"She's a beggar?!"

"She was born to be one of them, but taken away at a young age. Now she has become known as the beggar queen, queen of thieves."

The female snorted. "That's a tricky one. So how do you expect to trap her?! There's too much of her life that would be unknown-"

"Uh, but that is where you are wrong… our little informant has finally understood what Dylan is to us, and how much he can earn by feeding us more. He has only told us a little of his knowledge… there is so much more to learn."

"Little Lucus Roberts… I always kne-"

Dylan pushed herself away from the wall. That was all she needed to know. Lucus Roberts had betrayed her to them; all for money. She always knew he was a crook, but then again… they all were. This was beyond betrayal. There was no word in the english language for the treacherous deed he had committed.

Looking at her Moon could have sworn her friend looked possessed by some demon.

"Dylan," she hissed, "we must got."

Not saying a word, Dylan nodded, and followed without question, till they reached the street.

It was deserted. No cars, no people, not even animals.

"I'll leave you hear. The Card Master might get somewhat angry if he sees me skulking around. He does not know of our friendship yet… but it's only a matter of time."

"I know… but I wish you would just leave," Dylan sounded wistful, sad.

"I can't. I have protection here. People accept me for what I am-" involuntarily she indicated towards her burn scars upon her face and upper body.

But Dylan was already shaking her head. "They accept you for your abilities, Moon, nothing else, never confuse the two. I accept you for who you are, and so could the rest of the world, if you could give us a chance."

Moon smiled but said nothing in reply. Then frowned. "What… what are you going to do now?"

"Kill a traitor," she said easily, looking at her gun, then hitching up her dress she tucked it in the elastic of her stockings, "I can't have those in my hold. Especially not one who insists of trying to fuck me when ever we see each other."

Though her words were spoken lightly, Moon knew all too well that Dylan was deadly serious. And there was no way of deterring her.

"Good luck," Moon murmured as the two embraced.

"As I said," whispered Dylan, "I never rely on luck." The two girls pulled away from each other. "Stay safe, my beautiful moon."

With that, she left.

It was nearly nightfall by the time she reached Lucus' patch, where he lived. She had visited there so often, she could find the place blind folded.

There were lights on in his room, and laughter, all males, no females. She was surprised, normally Lucus or one of the boys had a prostitute or girlfriend with them when they seemed to be in such high spirits.

Quietly she walked down the stairs to their basement apartment, not yet pulling out her gun. Pressing her ear against the door, she listened in.

"- yer ge' the loo'?" she head one of the men demand, a young man called Henry, new to the city.

"Ah jus' a li'le job," Lucus sounded proud, "if I spin i' righ', I'll be rollin' in i' fer the res' o' ma life."

"Yer know… yer don' really need jobs like this to keep afloat," this was a man called Kevin, an older man, "Dylan looks af'er us all, no ma'er wha'."

There was a murmur of agreement. Surprisingly, even Lucus didn't disagree.

"Well… I like my money earned by me," Lucus finally defended himself, "as much as I'm gra'eful towards are li'les' queen, I like my money earned by me."

That was when Dylan made her entrance. She opened the door, opened it quietly and stood there. No one noticed her till she spoke after he had said his piece; "even if i's money you've go'en through treachery."

The men gasped and stumbled to their feet. Around them were bottles of alcohol and little bundles of cash. A small feast was laid out between them of roasts, vegetables and pastries. It looked good.

"Dylan!" Kevin walked towards her and caught her in a powerful hug, "I'm sorry I missed you las' time. Bu'… Business… yer know."

"I know Kev," she promised, beaming at him, "I know."

"Wha' do you mean 'treachery'," asked Henry, curiously, "he did a snoop-"

"Lucus," Dylan said slowly, interrupting Henry, "are you gonna tell 'em or am I?"

Lucus finally looked up at her, but was unable to meet her gaze. Instead he stared at a point at her forehead. "I dunno wha' yer talkin' abow'," he insisted stubbornly.

"Then I'll tell 'em."

He looked startled for a moment, finally meeting her gaze. Her expression was sad, he was surprised by it for a moment.

"He betrayed me," she said, softly, the other four men looked surprised for a moment. Had it been anyone else they would have immediately said 'prove it!' But this was Dylan, their queen. She had never lied to any of them. They had seen her in times of happiness anger and even pain.

"H- how," stammered the youngest, Toby.

"The organisation, Delilah, they wan' me ter be amoungst 'em."

"I've 'eard of 'em," Kevin said darkly, "the leader is an Alexis 'Argreaves. A coun' or and earl or summat."

"Ex-earl," Dylan supplied, "I'm stayin' with his son; Earl Cain Hargreaves, earl of poisons. A good man, trea'ed badly by the monster tha' is his father." She looked at Lucus directly. "And this one… Lucus Roberts, betrayed me fer money. He told 'em where I go, hoo I 'old dear- possibly told him abow' you lo'."

"I ain't!" Lucus snapped angrily, then realised he had just admitted to betraying her, he looked down, his honey eyes darting all over the place for an escape, "I on'y told 'em where ter find yer- nothing else. They don' know nuffin."

"They caugh' me, Luke," her tone had become deadly, soft, but deadly, "they caugh' me, bea' me up. They plan on ge'in more infermation outta yer. An' yer know wha'? I think they jus' need ter dangle a bi' o' gold in yer face and yer theirs. Easy as. Yer a trai'er Luke… a trai'er of the wors' kind."

Lucus stared at her, then smirked, getting up, coming towards her. "An' watcha gonna do about it eh? Yer c'n keep me under lock an' key, bu' yer know sooner or la'er I'm gonna ge' ow'. You and me, Dylan… you and me are too simillar-"

"We are nuffin alike," she stated, "nuffin. I don't tell… I look after everyone else. I have no wishes fer maself. And I'd rather live larke tha' than have ma own desires. Then I can't betray the people I love… the people hoo love me."

"So… wha' are yer gonne do ter me then?"

It was faster than a flash, she had the gun out, pointing at his chest, digging into his solar plexus. He looked down, then his eyes widened, those beautiful honey eyes covered with his dilated pupils with fright.

"Yer… yer… yer wouldn'… no… yer wouldn', Dylan-"

"I would," she said calmly, "I would and yer know it. Yer've seen it before."

"Bu' i's me… i's yer ma'e… we grew up tergether… yer love me… I love you…"

A tear formed in the corner of her eye and fell down her cheek. She smiled softly. "I do… I really do… bu'… I won't have a traitor in our family. We can' have them." Not taking her eyes off Lucus she dressed the other men in the room, "guys I-"

"We'll get rid of it," Kevin said decidedly, "call us when you and… and Roberts are done."

Lucus turned to look at them his face scared, shocked. "Bu' men, we-"

"See you Lucus," said Toby, his voice stoney.

"Yeah, some other time," agreed Henry.

One by one the other three men made their distant fair wells. None of them forth coming, but none of them begrudging.

Finally Lucus turned to Dylan. "Hold me hand," he whispered.

Still clutching the gun in one hand, Dylan locked fingers with him with her other. They left not saying a word.

In the opened, Dylan pushed him against the wall, and pushed the gun between his ribs.

"Why'd you do it?" she demanded, not unkindly, not coldly, just demanding.

"Money… I needed money…"

"I could 'ave-"

"I didn' wan' yer hand outs, yer majesty-" he was cut off by the stinging slap to his face.

"Yer said yer loved me? Honey… yer never loved me," she sounded almost sad, "we got wha' we needed offa each ovva. There was no love. Maybe when we were kids… bu' no' naah. Naah' yer see me as a way ter ge' back a' the country tha' abandoned yer… naah I've go'en bigger… naah I'm seen as a real queen… yer don' need me any more… yer sick o' me…" she looked up at him. "Please tell me I'm wrong. Please tell me I've read it all wrong."

Lucus said nothing.

Dylan sighed. "So much for friendship… bu'… a' leas' yer'll go knowin' yer never betrayed yer real friends."

"We were friends once."

Dylan leaned up at kissed his cheek, then his mouth, just softly. "And we'll be friends again," she promised, "just not in this life time."

Lucus stared down at her, then smiled softly and closed his eyes.

Raising the gun silently, she squeezed the trigger fast and-

BANG!

She never took her eyes off him.

He never opened his eyes again.

Letting him fall to the floor, Dylan dropped the gun to next to his body, and stepped away.

No tears came, no over whelming emotion took over her, nothing. Just as she had expected. He had been a traitor and a liar. Nothing more. Therefore… no feelings towards his death.

Not yet.

She walked towards the door, and knocked on it softly. Kevin answered.

"He's gone," she stated.

"Good," he nodded, reaching out to touch her cheek, "it's be'er off gone than bein' a traitor."

Dylan nodded, looking up at his kindly face.

"Toby!" Kevin called over his shoulder, "take Dylan home. I don' like the idea of 'er goin' 'ome on 'er own when she's been all bea'en up."

"Gotcha, boss," grinned Toby, miraculously by his side in an instant, "see yer later."

Toby bounded out of the house, and took hold of Dylan's arm gently.

"Tell me the way, Dyl," he said softly, leaving via the stairs, "I'll get you home safe."

"I trust you," she said whole heartedly.

She did. All of them. She could trust them more easily now. No more betrayers amoungst her people. Not now.

Later than expect, Dylan arrived back at Oscar's apartment. Toby left her at the door, and told her to expect a letter from them soon at the Hargreaves estate. She nodded numbly, and walked towards the doors.

A few moments later, without quite realising how, she was admitted into the apartment by a maid. She looked incredibly worried about her.

"Are you all right miss?" she asked, quietly.

Dylan looked up startled. "I'm fine, Fiona," she replied easily, "go to bed- you must be exhausted."

"Thank you miss," Fiona curtsied, glanced behind her worriedly, and left for her room quickly.

Looking towards where Fiona had glanced, Dylan understood why she had appeared to be so worried. Standing by the fire place, whiskey glass in hand with his back towards her was the figure of Cain Hargeaves. His entire body was tense, Dylan could see that from where she was standing. But she was hardly in any state to handle him.

"Good evening, earl of poisons," she said softly, lowering her head, "I must retire-"

"Where were you," he demanded quietly, not turning towards her.

"Sorry?" she asked, genuinely surprised, moving towards the fire light to warm her numb limbs. Her movements were still lethargic from earlier's beating.

"I asked a simply question, lady Dylan… where were you?"

"I was out… visiting a friend… I said I'd be back lat-"

"It is now two AM, lady Dylan… late does not consist of the early hours of the morning," he turned to face her, his golden green eyes caught the fire light and held them, his glare was fierce, "do not lie to me… where were you?"

"I was visiting friends," she insisted, "I got held up… we just talking and-"

Cain threw the glass against the wall behind her. She winced as the shattered glass hit the floor. Stalking towards her, Cain took hold of her arms and pulled her close to him. Under normal circumstances she would have thrown him off; but she felt too weak, too out of control of anything to do much about it.

"I have been up all this time, worrying about where you had gotten to, if you had gotten killed! Mary told me not to, that you would be fine. But you're just a girl! Someone could have easily taken advant-"

"What do you care," Dylan murmured, staring back at him, her own eyes spiked with her flare of life within, with their own fires, "I'm just a friend of your little sister's, I'm a nuisance. Why should you care."

"Because- because of that. Because you are a friend of my little sister, my beloved sister. And some how… I feel almost as though you could be a friend to me to."

"But Delil-"

"Seems to repulse you more than I," he was shaking, his grip tightening on her arms, "you are different Dylan, an enigma, swaddled in even more riddles than any other person I have ever met." He released her arms, "but you frustrate me! Staying out all night, no explanations, no offerings of apologies-"

"An apology? Is that what you want?! In that case, I apologise. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you worry. And I mean that from the bottom of you stupid little heart!"

At her desperate tone, Cain looked at her properly. Her eyes weren't focused properly, she seemed to be shaking slightly, and her knees did not seem to be holding her up right effectively.

On Dylan's half, she kept hearing and seeing Alexis in the boy. She couldn't help it. There was such few similarities she could not understand why it was happening. But his grip was as tight as his, it made it hard for her to breathe, to look at him. A man who had made her fall and feel weak, she couldn't stand it.

"Dylan," Cain said softly, he looked at her closely, "Dylan… is something wrong? Did somethi-"

"It doesn't matter," she snapped, pulled away from him, "I just want to sleep."

"No- Dylan please-" he grabbed her wrist, and without thinking her other lashed out, slapping him about the face.

The slap rang out about the room, Dylan looking struck as to what she had done, Cain expressionless.

Moments… minutes… hours… days… even years… all could have past them just then and neither would have noticed. Dylan was too stunned by what she had done so unprovoked, Cain simply wandering what had made her react so violently.

He dropped her wrist.

"Very well," he said coldly, "go to bed. Have a good sleep."

He turned away from her, back to the dying fire.

Unsure of what to do, Dylan moved towards him, hand outstretched; "Cain…" she started. Then stopped. She turned and said nothing more.

Again she had seen his father in him, and again she could not bring herself to face his image. Not yet. She felt too sick.

She stripped to only her underwear and went to bed immediately. She was too drained to do anything more. She felt as if nothing to change for the better.

Meanwhile, still in the living room, Cain's hand was held to his cheek, still curious as to what had made her lash out. It did not make sense. Dylan was so rational normally… what she did was not always predictable, she seemed to think a lot with her head. This action… this was animal instinct, a way to make someone let go.

There had been fear in her eyes, she was not looking at him properly. As though she was seeing someone else in his stead. But that hardly made any sense either. Who else could she have seen? There was only him in the room.

Or was he the problem? He had never been before. The two bartered and teased each other for so long… he had become so comfortable in her presence. And now this?

That fear was so intense. So real. So unlike the Dylan he had come to know.

What had happened to her?

The secrets just kept coming.


	17. As The Tension Rises

chapter 16 As The Tension Rises

Dylan and Cain did not so much as look at each other over the next three days. Though her attitude to Mary and Oscar did not change, Dylan kept as far away from Cain as possible. Even she did not have a reason as to why.

Cain himself was more worried about her than hurt. There were times when he touched her to talk to her and she jumped when turning to him, then calmed down and forced a smile. But her false smiles were the pinnacle of fake, she could not fake a smile.

He gave up.

As much as he wanted to find out what had happened, he would not yet. She was evidently still in a state of… of fear of something. As much as he wished to help her, he knew he could not.

Mary noticed the change, but said nothing. She immediately had assumed the two had some disagreement the night before. To a certain extent that was true, but not in the way she had thought. She did not interfere, nor did she bring it up with Dylan, knowing all too well the blasé attitude Dylan would take and then nothing would resolve. No. It was better to let them work it out on their own. Mary had always liked it when the two were teasing each other, and joking with each other… just communicated. Not this. This was wrong.

On the third day, they packed and left for the estates. Dylan promised to meet with Oscar sometime soon, and even embraced him good bye before getting into the carriage (accepting no help from Cain).

"You have to find out what's wrong with her," Oscar said quietly to Cain as the two bid each other farewell.

"You can tell?!" Cain was surprised.

"Well yeah… she's become… kinda… I dunno. Withdrawn or something. There's just something different about her that I can't place. Just find out, make her feel better. As much as Mary loves her, I don't think it's something a girl like Mary can sort out."

Cain nodded thoughtfully. "You might be onto something there, Oscar."

The two men bid each other good bye, and Cain got into the carriage, Riff getting on top with the driver.

Again Dylan was not looking at him instead she seemed to be gazing out the window, absently playing with Mary's hair, the little girl all ready falling a sleep. Her mouth was moving a little, and as Cain concentrated, he heard an unknown tune with unknown words float to his ears. The song was sad, the music melancholy.

Without quite knowing why, Cain suddenly wanted to hold Dylan close, tell her it was all all right, that nothing could hurt her.

Yet, though she was just a little distance from him, it felt like miles, she was untouchable, unreachable and unsettled.

As the left the main town, Cain found himself looking back towards her more and more.

Mary was fast asleep by then, but Dylan's song continued.

"Dylan," he said suddenly.

Waking out of her reverie, Dylan looked at him, curiously.

His face was confused and worried. An expression she had not yet seen on him. Nor any of his other family. Somehow like this she could look at him.

"Are you…" he started.

She smiled and nodded, and looked back out the window.

She did not feel like talking. Not yet. Not when she was so unguarded and vulnerable. A feeling she detested. Yet it was there and there was nothing she could do about it. Yet.

Soon she would be stronger. Soon she would have fought back her demons. SOon she would be able to look at him again and not be reminded of that devil known as his father…

Cain and Alexis, though of one blood, were polar opposites. Dylan knew this. But their blood, their similarities, they were inescapable. Especially were her anger and fear ridden mind.

She wanted to conquer it again, she wanted to regain her confidence in herself and others. But since loosing, since killing one man she thought she could have trust with her life, her foundations had been shaken, and she felt like a child again.

Why was this happening?!

Why her?!

For the first time in a long time she wished to have been a normal girl, living a normal life… in the slums or with her father, she did not care which. She just wished for normality.

Unfortunately, that was a reality that she could ever know.

A further ten days pass. Not painfully, nor slowly, but they pass.

The relationship between Cain and Dylan became strained and somewhat confusing on Cain's behalf. He did not understand the girl's mind most of the time.

There were time when she would just tease him again, her laughter and life returned full pelt to her eyes. Then there were times where she would look at him with a strange combination between fear and pride.

Yet some how, in those times, her eyes became unfocused, her hand drifted to her head, and she seemed to be in a daze. She would look away from him, and speak not another word. Almost in fear of what she would wake.

Dylan herself was unsure of what she was doing. With Cain there were times when she found herself inexplicably drawn to him, as she always had been. His charm, his charisma, his basic knowledge of how to treat her, engage her and simply speak with her. It always told her that there was nothing but a little blood shared between he and his father.

But then… then he would say something, give her a certain look, hold her gaze that strange way, and she was lost to the memory of him knocking her almost unconscious, loosing the ability to fight back, feeling helpless. And she could not look at him, let alone speak to him any more.

Not till her initial fear had worn off.

Mary noticed. She often asked Dylan why things were so strained, but Dylan shook her head saying it was her own problem, she would deal with it. Mary trusted her. If it was something she could help with in the slightest way, Mary was certain Dylan would tell her straight away; it had always been like that.

And somehow… the strain between the two, drew them to each other. Dylan wanting to find away to stop herself from being reminded of the demon; Cain to understand the psych of the strange young woman.

It was after those ten days, after Toby and Kevin had written to her telling her than the funeral had taken place, that the letters arrived.

It was at lunch. A lunch where Dylan had finally conquered her embarrassment and fear from the night Alexis beat her. She was light hearted and fun. She joked with Mary, teased Cain and debated with Riff.

Cain himself felt better about Dylan. She looked so alive and vibrant. Her eyes were again the shifting blues and green he had grown so used to. She was back.

Rachel came to the table carrying to letters. She curtsied before entering the room and handed them both to Cain.

"One is for you sir," she said quietly, "and one is for Lady Sedgewell."

"My my my, I might as well live here," laughed Dylan, "I've got my letters coming her and everything."

Cain just rolled his eyes at her, passing the letter down the table to her.

Unintentionally simultaneously, the two opened their letters and read them through. Cain's brow furrowed a little, more out of curiosity than anything else, while Dylan's face slowly became more and more expressionless.

"Well, uncle Neil wishes for me to visit him in three days time, a later date is acceptable, but three days time would be best," Cain announced, "Neil was cousin to father," he explained, "and the closest thing I had to a father… after he died."

Dylan said nothing, she was staring at the letter. She refolded it, and put it down gently.

"Lady Margaret is better," she said, her voice almost echoing around the room, "I am to come home and the earliest possible convenience. She left for home yesterday."

Silence engulfed the room.

Somehow… during her eventful stay with the Hargreaves, Dylan had almost made it seem to be her home, as thought she belonged there. Her leaving seemed to make a hole.

"But you'll come back to visit soon right!" Mary insisted.

Dylan grinned at her little friend. "No kidding," she teased, leaning over to poke her in the side, "I had fun. I mean of coarse… if your brother doesn't mind…" She looked towards Cain, almost apprehensively.

Cain on the other hand said nothing, mumbled something about his collection to attend to and left the table without a further word.

Frowning, Dylan shrugged it off, turning back to her meal, talking to Mary. Neither took it to heart that Cain had stalked off, they rarely did.

The entire day was taken up by Dylan becoming almost child like, younger than Mary. Playing and teasing, worrying the animals, irritating the servants, getting the maids in their fun.

When ever Cain came across either of them, he would smile at Mary, catch sight of Dylan and turn away. He never said a word to her all day.

"Did you and Cain fight?" asked Mary in a horse whisper as they hid from Louise, the cook who had gotten the broken egg treatment (in other words, about half the eggs in the pantry had their bottoms tapped enough not to be noticed but had been weakened enough to drip on the unfortunate person who picked them up A/N I have done this P).

"No," Dylan replied, just as hoarsely, trying not to giggle as Louise came storming past, cursing like a sailor, "he's jus' moody coz he's gonna miss me." A giggle escaped her lips and she said this, not believing her words.

Looking at Mary she realised that Mary truly believed that. Dylan just shook her head.

"Mary, baby, ter 'im I'm jus 'is li'l sister's friend. Tha' basically means tha' though 'e'll trea' me wi' respect bu' 'e won't go oudda 'is way ter ge' ter know me."

Mary was shaking her head. "You're wrong," she insisted, "you underestimate him. He likes helping people… he doesn't like getting close to people, but you're one of the few people he had any form of connection to. You both have secrets… double lives… I see so much of you in him. It was one of the only reasons I could take living in this world. I had him around me all the time like I had you before."

"'e's like tha' fer you," Dylan said dismissively, "I mean very li'l ter 'im."

"Believe what you wish, Dyl," smirked Mary, "you'll learn."

Dylan glanced the little girl a sideways glance, but said nothing more on the matter.

Partly because Louise had found them and they had to run for their lives if they did not want too much more trouble.

That evening during dinner, Dylan had made up her mind on when to was to leave. She knew it had to be soon, but she wanted to extend it as much as she dared with her family.

"Uh… hem," she looked around at the two faces looking at her expectantly, "I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow. If that would be ok for me to stay that long."

Cain frowned at her. "Of coarse it is…" he sensed her hesitance, though what it was for, he wasn't entirely certain.

"Why don't you stay another week?!" complained Mary, "you're more than welcome, it's been so much fun having you here."

Her older brother hid a smile, though towards the end of her stay Dylan had been withdrawn, he had to admit she was right. And he hoped Dylan had remembered his offer for when her step-grandmother came to stay. It was only then he allowed himself to admit to himself that he would enjoy having her over. Even if were just the two of them…

He shook his head and refocussed himself into the conversation.

"-but my family would get upset," Dylan was saying, her expression thoroughly irritated, "me staying in this house has probably already started many rumours. And the night at the theatre definitely didn't help with that."

A smirk twitched in Cain's cheek. The already grinning Dylan caught sight of it, she could not help but feel a little proud at the reaction.

"Fine…" Mary mocked a pout, "but you better come and stay again soon."

Cain stood suddenly, causing the two females to look at him suddenly.

His golden green eyes met her blue green. It had been the first time that week that she had met his gaze so squarely. Her brazen stare reminded him of how free she had been with him before that second trip to London. Somehow that ate at him. He thought they had come to an understanding, that she had come to trust him somewhat. He felt strangely hurt that she obviously did not.

It took all his self control not to scowl at her. Instead, keeping his face impassive, he bowed at the hips towards her, mimicking his actions towards her when they first met. As he looked up again, he saw Dylan's expression that of a mix between confusion, hurt and anger.

He smirked, devilishly. Maybe now she would understand how he felt towards her just then.

"Goodnight, lady Sedgewell," the use of her surname seemed to twist the dagger further into the wound, "I do hope you decide to come and visit us here again soon."

Startled Dylan stammered out a reply he could not decipher. He bowed again and left the room, chuckling mirthlessly.

Riff was by his side in a moment, looking thoroughly confused.

"Sir… might I ask-"

"I'm teasing her," Cain said dismissively, waving his hand airily, "she's been to distant recently, I just wanted to remind her."

Though he frowned, Riff said nothing till they reached Cain's room. As Riff assisted Cain with undressing he started again.

"Cain… might I speak frankly?"

"Of coarse," chuckled Cain, as his manservant undid his laces for him.

"Since Miss Dylan arrived here… you've been strange."

"Strange? How so?"

"You seem to… worry more. About her. You try to see her as much as possible… and since Emelline I have never seen you take so much interest in a woman."

"She is engaging," Cain replied airily, as Riff started on his shirt buttons, "boisterous and a mystery I want to uncover. That is all."

There was a secret smirk on Riff's face, but he said no more. Cain's face became a mask of confusion, even after Riff left.

Climbing into bed, Cain found his mind to be in chaos. What had Riff meant by that? He worried about her? Worried about that infuriating, opinionated, rebellious girl? A girl who some how managed to repulse and attract him at the same time. And not even for physical reasons, her beauty, her body, her illustrious eyes. Strangely, in the worst cliché way possible, it was her brain, her mind, her most annoying words that drew him.

"Why can't Mary have befriended nice normal people…" he muttered to himself, pulling the covers over himself angrily, unsure of why he was angry.

A small, surprisingly self confident side of him said "was she ever going to? She is your sister…"

Meanwhile, in the dining room, Mary and Dylan were looking at each other, their expressions of confusion mirroring each others.

"He's just-" started Mary but cut herself off, seeing Dylan returning to her food, seemingly unaffected by Cain's behaviour. But the slight shake in her hand showed to one such as Mary that it was a fake. She was angry. "Dylan… just ignore him… he's upset."

"What about? I haven't done anything."

"I think that's the problem," Mary told her, "you've hardly spoken to him in almost two weeks."

That made her stop. Dylan slowly lowered her fork to her plate, and stared at her food. Mary looked at her curiously for a moment.

Dylan's thoughts were almost lethargic, telling her it wasn't really her fault; she was just in shock after being beat so badly, after killing Lucus. But she knew that was no excuse. Cain had done nothing wrong, and yet she had taken it out on him. Not talking to him, giving him dirty looks, after mistaking him for his father when she wasn't concentrating properly. She felt bad.

That was when her cynical side kicked in; he had no right to be so rude to her. He did not know what had caused her to be so distant, why didn't he try to find out what had happened to her? Why did he not try harder to find out? If he really cared, he would not have given up so easily.

With that, she picked up her fork and began eat again, this time her entire body seemed to be far more relaxed. With her justification for anger, she felt easier in her own skin again.

Seeing this, Mary got a bad feeling about what was to happen in Dylan's last days with them. Cain acting to strangely rude, and Dylan having clearly gotten justification for having pay back against him… things were not going to be pretty over the next two days.

Most of the next day, Dylan's last day, was an interesting day.

Though Mary had to admit there was never a dull moment for her, Cain and Dylan incessantly tease and irritated each other any given moment they could. They were acting like children, worse than children… jealous adults! Even Mary was not as vindictive as the two were acting.

Normally Cain had never been so petty, but Dylan brought the worst out in him. Her comments, expressions and ways made his blood boil, it took much of his strength to stop himself from going over board and just reacting like a child.

On the other hand Dylan took comfort in the fact that she was able to wind him up with ease, make him react and cause him to stammer before he could reply to her. The only thing that got to her was the fact that he repeatedly called her Lady Sedgewell, a name he had not called her since he had picked her up over a month before.

It was not till dinner did Cain was finally able to well and truly annoy her. Yet even then he was not pleased with the outcome.

It was a simple off handed comment, not even properly designed to spark her off, he had calculated it would have only been enough to irritate her, not initiate the response it had.

"I wander if the tart and fancy dress would have ever really gotten on with a true Lady Sedgewell," he had said musingly, examining the piece of fish at the end of his fork as Dylan had stopped, half way through raising her own food to her plate.

There was a sudden clang of metal on china, the scraping of wood on stone, and when Cain looked up, he was faced with the blazing eyes of a well and truly furious Dylan o'Toole. She was by no means Dylan Sedgewell any more.

"I wander if this so-called wolf in sheep's clothing is simply a sheep wishing he were a wolf," she snarled angrily, "for sometimes, earl of poisons, I wander if anything you say you truly mean."

Golden green eyes widening, Cain's own temper boiled over. His own fork clatter to his plate, his own chair was scraped backwards, hands slammed on the table, leaning towards the impertinent girl.

"Says the woman who will not admit to anything solid," he hissed at her.

"At least I do not lie to those I hold dear," she retorted angrily.

"Ho ho ho, I lie?! I lie! I protect, lady Sedgewell, I pro-"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT NAME!" she shrieked, "never call me that. I am no more a lady than you are a man."

"What's that sup-"

"You are a boy," she interrupted, "you still have too much to learn about the world to be considered a man yet."

He smirked. "Why does it irk you so, lady Sedgewell, that title was given to you, you should wear it with pride."

"Given to me? It was forced upon me! I never asked to be yanked away from my home, away from everything I knew! I never asked to be forced to become a governess for my own siblings! I never ask-" she stopped herself, "you go too far, my lord, too far."

Picking up the napkin beside her plate, she tenderly touched the corners of her mouth incase of crumbs, laid it upon her plate and leaned over to kiss Mary's forehead whispering to the little girl a sweet good night. As she raised her head to look at Cain, her green blue eyes were thunderous and dark, he would not have been surprised to see lightening issuing through them. Her loathing was undisguised.

She left the room without another word to him. A few minutes later, both Mary and Cain heard the door to her room slam shut.

"You really need to learn," Mary sighed heavily.

"What?!" complained Cain, "she-"

"Started it?" Mary raised an eyebrow, "listen to yourself big brother… you sound younger than me… normally I would have disagreed with her, insisted you were a man, but after that display… I'm inclined to agree with her."

"And what would you have me do," Cain asked, quietly, "go and apologise to her? She leaves tomorrow… and I don't really think tonight would be a good idea to make amends."

"Apologise tomorrow. A short apology is better than none at all. She will forgive you if she thinks you're being sincere."

Cain looked away from Mary's blue eyed gaze, back at his food, and sighed heavily. He hated being proved wrong, especially when he was done with the naivety of a child. But at the same time, such innocent ignorance could such an asset.

"Mary?" he said softly.

"Yes, big brother?"

"You're annoyingly intelligent."

"I know… I am your sister."

That made Cain laugh. Getting up from his seat, he came round and wrapped his arms round Mary tightly, holding her close, his face resting on the crown of her head.

"You're too smart for your own good," Cain murmured, kissing Mary on top of her head, "I can't ever let you out of my sight…"

"You never will," Mary teased, smiling to herself, "never do… please Cain? Never leave me…"

"I won't," he promised, "never. I promised you before, remember? I'll protect you… always."

Brother and sister's eyes met, smiling.

Their bond was eternal and unfathomable. Cain was suddenly grateful for the day he decided on a whim to have his fortune told by that little tarot card reader on the street corner.

Otherwise he would never have found this gem, his little sister, his life.


	18. Talks at Midnight

Pride and Prejudice Script

17. Talks at Midnight

Later that night Dylan lay in bed, perfectly still caring up at the canopy of her four poster bed. Even then she had very little idea of why she was still awake. Her mind was relatively quiet, but something was still irritating her, in the back of her mind.

She kept trying to grasp it, get hold of it and decipher it.

But she was having no such luck.

Finally she kicked off her sheets, and pulled on her flimsy little dressing gown.

Cain.

That was what was getting to her, twisting it's way into her subconscious.

Cain.

Making her feel bad for snapping at him, especially now since she had found out what his father done to him.

Cain.

Who had some how made her feel at ease when he was so clearly born into the world aristocracy and felt comfortable there.

Cain…

Somehow she found herself outside the door of his room, hand raised to knock.

She shook her head. She was being silly. She could apologise in the morning.

Turning away from the door she moved back down the corridor. Then changed her mind. It wasn't right. If he was awake he could tell her to go away, or come in. If he was asleep… then he would not answer.

She returned to the door and immediately rapped the door, not too hard, four times.

There was a moments pause, then, faintly through the heavy wooden door, "Mary? What's wrong?"

"It's Dylan," she whispered, "did I wake you?"

"No," came his almost sullen answer, "what do you want?"

"Do I have to hiss it through the door, or can I come in?"

There came an almost inaudible sigh. "Come in," he said.

Gratefully, Dylan pushed the door open, slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

"I didn't want to wake anyone up," she explained, leaning against the fore mentioned door, looking at Cain who was in the process of sitting up.

"Fair enough," he agreed.

Immediately, Dylan could see he was completely naked.

Well, she could see that he was topless, she could only assume the rest of him were the same. Yet somehow it did not phase her in the slightest. It seemed to surprise him a little. Then he remembered she did have older brothers, it was likely growing up she had walked in on them before, not understanding the differences properly.

"Cain I-" she started.

"Come sit here," he said tiredly, "yes on the bed. I don't particularly care. Do you?"

That caused Dylan a fair amount of surprise. But she shrugged it off with a smile, and came to sit on the edge of the bed, towards the middle.

By then Cain had propped himself up with a pillow and was looking at her intently.

"You were saying my lady Sedgewell," he stated.

Again that simply made Dylan's temper boil over. Turning on his bed, leaning towards him she suddenly seemed to snap at him.

"What the fuck did I tell only a few hours ago?" she snarled, softly, Cain found himself backing away from her, he would not have put it passed her to kill him just then, "do not call me Lady… do not call me Sedgewell! It's not the name I would have chosen for myself. I am not a Sedgewell! And I am by no means a Goddamned lady either!"

"You can say that again," he snapped at her, leaning back, keeping the farce that he was relaxed and unafraid of her, "no lady would enter a young man's room. If a lady did, they would have expected something… thus loosing the lady aspect of that woman."

Dylan stared at him. "You talk so much crap," she said, quite easily, and sat back, her eyes glinting dangerously, "were you hinting something about me there, earl?"

"Me?" he raised his eyebrows, "no never-" he stopped himself, this had gone far enough.

Mary had been right. He knew all too well that he and Dylan argued too much, especially recently, and by then it was just petty little comments that would have normally just been a joke.

"No…" he said softly, he looked up at Dylan, his eyes softer, his expression far more open and direct, "no, you know… Dylan… I know you say you're not a lady. But in my eyes… your the best sort of lady. Simply because you do not expect anything from your title… you never seem to act on it. You treat everyone equally… you talk to Louise and me the same…"

He shook his head, looking away from her, searching for the right words to express his thoughts.

"I was angry with before, because you had cut me out, humiliated me… though it were only the two of us, you humiliated me because I cared and you pushed me away. I was wrong, not you. I'm going to make it right. I know you're leaving tomorrow… but… I was hoping… Dylan…" he looked up at her, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I just hope… you can put these last few days behind you, remember how well we got on before… maybe look to me as your friend…?"

She looked utterly lost. She was still leaning towards him, as a panther ready to pounce on her pray, but her muscles were far to lax in surprise for her to be any kind of danger any more.

"Who are you and what have you done with Cain Hargreaves," she said slowly.

A laugh issued from his lips. "I'm being serious, Dylan," he leaned forewords to take her hand, "I don't wa-"

"Cain, put some pants on, the sheet's slipping down," she interrupted calmly, "seriously."

Chuckling in embarrassment, and pulling back Cain got out of bed as Dylan faced the opposite side of the room, her eyes closed.

It was only moments later when Dylan felt a weight settle beside her, on her left, did she reopen her eyes. Sitting beside her, Cain seemed to be wearing some sort of thermal underwear, though only pants, his slender torso was still laid bare.

But that wasn't all that was.

"Dylan I-" he started.

"Who did that to you," she murmured.

"What?" Cain looked confused.

Without even meaning to, Dylan reached out and touched his back, tracing down one of his scars. "You were wiped," she said softly, "a lot…" her eyes met his, they were burning. "Who did this to you?"

"It was a long time ago," he said softly, "a life time ago…"

"I don't care," she snarled, "no one deserves this… who did it? Who the-" she stopped, "that's what he did to you…" she muttered, talking to herself, Cain could barely hear her any more, "that was what he did to you…"

"Who are you-"

"Alexis," she replied quickly, "Alexis Hargreaves… the one Hargreave I want dead…"

"He is-"

"He's not and you know it," her eyes were focused, "I know you tried to kill him, I know why you did, I know why he hates you… and he is pathetic because of it… the only reason he has control over people is because he knows how to find out peoples weaknesses… he even knows mine…"

"Dylan what are you-"

He suddenly felt her arms flung round his neck, her head buried in the base of his neck, her warm body close to his, holding him close. Reflexively he hugged her in return, locking his arms around her waist. But he soon relaxed into the embrace, enjoying the feeling of holding her close, the tender touch of another person, a woman. He bent his head foreword, loosing his sense amongst her scented locks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What for," he reply was just as soft.

"For making you worry… for treating you so badly… for your father being a bastard… for having such a hard life… I'm sorry for everything…"

"Why? You can't make everything better for me, no one can."

"I wish I could… I wish I had the power to."

She pulled away from him and looked up. Her beautiful eyes had tears collecting in the corners, they were already shimmering brightly, ready to fall free from the imprisonment of her eyes, onto her cheeks. She looked strangely vulnerable, Cain was not sure if it was a look on her he particularly liked.

"Don't cry," he begged, "just… don't cry…"

The tears came. Spilling down her face, chasing each other down her cheeks. She turned away from him, holding her arms loosely in her lap.

"I can't help it," her voice was weak, "too much has happened… I can't handle it any more."

"Why… what's happened?"

Dylan shook her head helplessly. "I- Cain… I-"

"Look at me."

Forcing herself, Dylan looked at Cain.

"I'm not going to judge you… how can I? Besides… I'll worry more if you don't."

The earnestness in his tone and face cracked Dylan's resolve.

Her eyes left his face and focused on the blanket space between them.

"I killed a man," she said quietly, "a man who claimed he loved me, who I loved… we had grown up together… and he betrayed me. I can't have traitors around me… so I killed him."

Forcing down his surprise and almost fear, he reminded himself that Dylan was just a girl… she was most probably afraid of what she had done. Keep his voice calm he asked, "who was he?"

"Lucus Roberts. Childhood friend… friend who I thought would have been there till the end… then he betrayed me and my people to Alexis Hargreaves… of all people…"

The name made Cain's blood run cold. But Dylan was not done talking yet.

"It's just because I'm the queen of beggers… queen of the lower classes… I look after them, make sure they can eat, help the pick pockets, hang out with the con men… those are my people. And through me they get protection and help… Alexis wanted to exploit that and use them for his own needs. I know my people will do him good- but it will destroy them, and I will not have that. They're the family that truly accepted me, not forced to take me in. I'm their queen, their leader, they look to me for help, I will never ever give them away, especially not to that demon."

"Is that why you know so much about Delilah?"

"Yes… Alexis repeatedly tries to persuade me to join them, every time I say no… every time I do I have to escape from them."

"But you're so young…"

"How old do you think the doctor is? Thirty?" she let out a hollow laugh, "he's only a little older than you're self… and he's been involved with his father's work since he was a child. And Gladestone? The noble you exposed? He was about twenty-five I think… that's not exactly old."

Cain nodded.

"Lucus… Lucus told him where to find me those two weeks ago… so he kidnapped me. He wanted me to join him… he told me things, about you, your real mother… him. He tried to get me to join again, but I told him no… he… he…" she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, "he beat me… very badly… but worse than that, he never gave me a chance to hit back. I have never been vulnerable… it was the first time I had ever felt helpless… and I had no one to help me… I was well and truly alone…"

"How did you escape?" Cain's voice was almost inaudible.

"I had help," she admitted, "and Alexis refuses to learn anything about servants… we took the servant door down to the kitchens… then I ran. And I killed Lucus."

That was when Cain felt a sense of over whelping empathy for the poor young woman. Wrapping his arms round her waist, he pulled her closer to him, her head laying naturally against his chest.

"That's not-"

"It's enough," he said, "you don't need to tell me everything."

"Just one more," she insisted, "I owe you… and I know you won't betray me."

Hesitating for just a moment, Cain nodded.

"The other reason Alexis wants me is for a power I have… the ability to communicate with animals… my little friends."

Cain was surprised, but not shocked some how. "That's a useful gift."

Dylan shook her head. "It's a curse. I would have been left alone if I didn't have it. Haven't you noticed the tarots each have something different about them? Gladestone's hypnotism? Creador's communication with spirits?"

"Creador's not a tarot."

"Nor will he ever be… I know him well. But he has had the offer given. The only reason they have not persuade him further is because they fear spirits more than animals. And he has not got links to the underworld but for prostitutes."

He let out a small chuckle. "My my… you do know the psychic well…"

Dylan laughed dryly, "he helped me escape once, he thought I was a boy at the time… he found out quickly I was by no means male."

A frown creased Cain's brow, he looked down at her. "What does that mean?"

Dylan looked up at him, then laughed properly. "Oh nothing like that," she promised, "I had to change back into a dress, and he understood who I was when I asked for a place to change. Honestly…"

"You can't blame me," Cain sounded almost hurt, "the man is a good womaniser."

"Not womaniser, no," she disagreed, "but women are certainly drawn to him." Cain snorted. "As easily as they're drawn to you."

He looked down at her. Though she was locked in his arms, looking up at him with her large eyes, he knew all too well that she was by no means vulnerable or weak. She could have easily broken out of his grip and broken him in doing so. Yet she did not. She was settled in his arms, a hand on his chest, tracing symbols on his bare skin, the other laid in her lap. Again her proximity was toxic, she was poison.

But Cain collected poisons. He was drawn to them. They interested him.

Without quite knowing why, he bent down, pulling her closer to him.

"What… are you doing?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he told her honestly, and kissed her.

Her lips were softer than he had expected, and they did not resist his kiss. Instead she seemed to welcome it, kissing him back softly.

He pulled back, staring down at her in surprise. She lay in his arms smiling a little.

"What?" she stated easily.

"I don't know," he repeated.

"You don't know very much do you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You seemed surprised that I returned your kiss."

"I didn't think I was your type… and most girls aren't experienced enough to do so."

She laughed, and reached up, locking a hand into his dark hair, the other arm round his neck pulling him closer. "Do you really want to know how experienced I am?"

"Do I want to, my tart in fancy dress?" he murmured into her lips.

"Oh yes, master wolf, I really think you do."

(you wanna read what happens? SEPARATE CHAPTER go check it )


	19. Or Is This Goodbye?

A/N: for those of you who didn't read chapter 18 i wouldn't blame you actually... not much happened… obviously a lemon, so take a wild guess ; but other than that it was discovered that Dylan's skin is covered in scars, however it's not through abuse, only through living on the streets and not hiding what she thinks. Otherwise you didn't miss that much to the story line.

o and just to let you know i am now well over 100 pgs AND this is my penultimate chapter P enjoy folks

19 Or Is This Good-bye?

It was perhaps an hour before the sun had gotten up, the moment of when the stars began to disappear and the moon bid farewell to the world, when Dylan's eyes fluttered open.

Though the bed was vast, she found herself tucked up close in Cain's embrace, his arms locked round her, not wanting to let her go. She felt strangely safe there, in his arms. His slim body was surprisingly strong, she remembered falling asleep tracing the muscles on his torso.

Eyes travelling to his face, she was stunned by the apparent innocence that his sleeping face portrayed. There was no worry upon his brow and his mouth was turned up into a little smile. She had never seen him look so peaceful.

Reaching up, Dylan pressed her lips to his, then his forehead. Without waking, he pulled her closer to himself, locking his legs around her own more tightly.

Carefully detangling herself from his limbs, Dylan manoeuvred herself out of his embrace. She did not wish to wake him. Pulling on her night dress and dressing gown, she looked back at Cain's sleeping figure. She almost felt bad about leaving him alone in bed, his naked figure in that large bed was strangely lonely. But she knew leaving him like that would be best. For the both of them.

She opened and closed the door silently, and crept back to her room, hoping no one had noticed. She had seen no servants moving about, nor animals stirring from sleep just yet.

She slipped into her room, the door clicking into place behind her.

Looking at her bed, Dylan saw a lump in the middle, a small head on her pillows, blonde hair spread out against the white. She smiled to herself, Mary had come to visit her in the middle of the night evidently and fallen asleep waiting for her.

Not even thinking twice, Dylan climbed into bed with her, wrapping her arms around her small frame. The soft lavender scent from Mary's skin tinted Dylan's senses. Feeling thoroughly calm and at peace with herself, Dylan fell asleep, a slight smile on her face, her body more relaxed than it had been in so very long.

Cain had been very good for her.

The sunlight came streaming into the room, straight onto Cain's face.

Scowling, he shifted, as his consciousness bordered on wakefulness. He tried to pull that body towards him, the girl he had slept with all night. But she was no longer there.

The absence of the other person caused him to wake up much faster. He opened his eyes, momentarily dazzled by the brightness of the sun, but it was very clear that he was alone in his bed.

He sat up and looked around.

When had she left him? Why had she left him? Did she regret?

The second question he knew the answer to. Neither of them needed the servants talking. Their reputations were reputable as it was, they did not need it them to be tainted any further.

Still… he would have liked to have been able to wake up… find her in his arms… kiss her to consciousness again. It was her last day after all.

There came a knock on the door. Snapping out of his revere, he answered, "yes?"

The door opened slowly, Riff entered looking somewhat surprised. "Ah, sir, you're awake." In his hands was tray with a cup of steaming tea, an omelette and a side of toast. He set it on the bed before Cain, and proceeded to pick out his clothes for the day. "I would advise you to hurry, Cain," he added, "Dylan will be leaving soon, she's already having the carriage packed with her bags."

That startled Cain, causing him to eat faster.

His reaction made Riff chuckle. It had been so long since he had seen Cain like this… it was almost refreshing.

Not too long later, Cain was rushing down the stairs to catch up with Dylan. Pausing at the bottom he was surprised to see only Mary waiting at the door, grinning.

"Oh, earl of poisons," came a voice from behind him, "do you have somewhere to be?"

He turned to see Dylan standing a few steps behind him. For the first time in weeks he felt breath taken by her appearance.

She was dress simply in a pastel violet, blue and white, to the floor travelling dress. Simple long sleeves, tight shaped bodice and simple straight falling gown. Her make up consisted only of a small amount of blusher, her eyes outlined black and her lips coated in a light coat of pink.

Dressed so simply and yet she was was still as toxic as she had been the night before.

"No, not particularly," he said calmly, standing straighter, tugging at the sleeves of his blazer, straightening his shirt as he looked up at her.

He walked up the stairs towards her, holding out a hand for her to take. As she followed him with her eyes she seemed to be debating on weather or not she should take his hand and accept his gentlemanly gesture.

Watching him walk towards her, Dylan was again struck by the fluidity of his movements, the shapes his face made, the music of his voice. He was a beautiful man, and a good catch for any woman in the future. Just the he was far too young to be thinking of such things, but she knew the sort of prospects men like him had. Whether they had the black sheep label or not.

As he reached her, hand out to take hers, she had made her decision. She took his hand, but instead of walking down with him, she raised his hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles softly, before throwing his hand away and running down the stairs, her hair trailing after her.

Startled, Cain blinked, rubbing his thumb gently over where her lips had touch his hand, just for a moment. Then chased after her, down the stairs, where she hid behind Mary, calling for her protection.

Mary herself laughed at the two older teenagers antics. She was glad to see them having made up and no longer generally at each others throats. This was how it was meant to have been. Though she was sort of glad they had argued before, it meant life was more interesting and Mary had Dylan all to herself.

"Pax!" pleaded Dylan, laughing as Cain caught hold of her wrists, "Pax! I need to go home!"

The smile immediately faded from Cain's face as she said this.

"Must you leave?" he asked.

"Yes," Dylan said sadly, as Cain released one of her wrists she laid it on Mary's shoulder, "my family do need me…"

Mary snorted.

"Oh hush," said Dylan angrily, "Jonny and Chris do… and Gwen poor child. Seb picks on them so much and Bert is pathetic at defending even himself."

Cain had followed none of that, but what he understood meant that Dylan was definitely needed at home, no matter how much he wanted her to stay.

"Mary," Dylan added, "can you go see if Louise has finished with my lunch, I need a word with Cain."

"Not another argument," Mary said almost angrily.

Dylan laughed. "No, kiddo, hopefully making sure there won't be any more arguments."

"All right… as long as you're sure."

Bending down to kiss her cheek, Dylan promised.

As Mary walked away she gave Cain a warning gaze. When she was out of sight and sound he chuckled slightly.

"She does love you," Cain said, happily.

"Yeah I know," she replied softly, leaning against the door, still staring after the little girl, before looking at him, "I'm sorry," she said.

Cain frowned. He had been worrying about this… maybe she had not meant to go through with it. But she was by no means inexperienced, he could tell that much.

"What for?"

"Well I tried saying sorry last night," she explained, looking up at him quite calmly, "and I dunno how clear I made myself. So in case you didn't understand me last night. I am sorry."

He smiled at her, and took her hand in his. "And if I wasn't clear last night, I'm sorry."

"Then we're understood?"

"Of coarse," he beamed at her. She smiled in return.

Studying her face, Cain found himself drawn to her again. Again he bent forewords and tentatively he pressed his mouth to hers. He found her welcoming the kiss quite happily, freeing the hand he had taken and wrapping her arms around his neck.

The kiss lasted only a few moments, but they broke apart, glancing round worriedly. Their eyes met and they grinned at each other sheepishly.

"Damn house full of people," he murmured to her.

"Heh… your house," she pointed out, "now back off before your sister gets the wrong idea."

Stepping back from her Cain frowned. "Wrong idea? What wou-"

"Here it is!" came Mary's bright voice as she rounded the corner, she handed the small box to Dylan, "it's not much, but you never each much."

"Very true," nodded Dylan, "come see me off?"

"Of coarse," brother and sister said together.

The left the house together, the carriage not far from the front of the house.

As they reached the carriage, Riff opened the door for her and she placed the box on her seat. She turned to Riff.

"Good luck, Riff," she said genuinely, "look after them… they're going to need it. And… keep that smile."

"Take care, Dylan," he replied, finally saying her name properly, "keep safe."

"No promises," she winked. She turned to Cain, and held out a hand to him, which he took in surprise, "it was good to finally meet you," she said dryly, then she winked and pulled him into a quick friendly hug, "it was fun arguing with you master wolf."

Cain responded with a hug of his own. "It was good to get to know you, lady tart…" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "never change."

"I won't," she replied, before pulled away from him.

She practically picked up Mary with the force of her hug. "I had so much fun with you," Dylan said to her sincerely, "I'm sorry I didn't come to visit you sooner."

"I'm glad you came at all," Mary sounded still cheerful, "but you'll come again soon won't you?!"

Dylan put Mary back on the floor, and glanced at Cain. "Well… if I'm-"

"I insist you do," Cain said suddenly, "the estates can get rather boring, Mary and I could do with the entertainment. You're always welcome here."

"Especially when you're evil grandmother comes to stay," Mary added passionately.

Dylan laughed and kissed her little friend's forehead. "Understood, Hargreaves, I'm to get back here soon in other words."

"Yes," nodded the siblings together, then grinned, it was surprising how similar they looked when happy.

Dylan climbed into the carriage shut the door, and leaned out of the carriage. "I'll come back, you can't get rid of me that easily."

The driver cracked the whip, Dylan winced, and the carriage set off.

Cain and Mary stood together watching the carriage leave, till it was only a speck in the distance.

"She'll be back," Mary said softly, taking Cain's hand, "then it'll be like she was never away."

"Mmm…" Cain said, non-commitedly, he looked down at his little sister, still staring after the carriage that was now unable to be seen, "come on, Mary-Weather," he teased, "we'll get Louise to make us chocolate cake or something."

"Ok," Mary grinned up at her big brother, as he hauled her onto his back, carrying her inside, "and strawberries, and cream and-"

"Calm down Mary, we don't need you getting fat now do we?"

"But I want cream!"

"You might but you know all to well Louise has issues with giving you cream."

Life felt normal. Like it hadn't been normal before. It was a comforting feeling. Dropping Mary off at the door to run and tell Louise about the cake, Cain glanced back over his shoulder. Shaking his head, he looked at Riff, who was waiting for him just inside the door.

"Baron Gabriel has left a message," Riff said quietly.

"I'll get back to him later," Cain said dismissively, "I'm spending today with Mary."

"I'll let him know."

"Thank you Riff."

As Riff walked away and Cain shut the door behind him, he felt a sudden feeling of loss. As though he would never see that strange girl again. Physically shaking himself, Cain closed his eyes for a moment, before snapping them open and walking towards the kitchen to steal Mary back.

'Thank you, Dylan… thank you for everything."


	20. Epilogue

A/N: hehe- sorry folks this is the end of baa baa black sheep XD

i hope you guys enjoyed it

Epilogue

Arriving at Uncle Neil's house a day later than expected during the evening, Cain was greeted warmly by his father's cousin. The servants took the bags up to Cain's room (he would be staying a couple of nights), while he was ushered into the dining room.

"Ah uncle," started Cain, as he accepting the starter, tomato soup and fresh bread, "that reminds me, would you accompany me back to the estates? There is a matter I wish to discuss with you and a few others."

"Oh…" Neil appeared to be startled, but recovered well, "of coarse, Cain, it's been a long time since I've seen little Mary-Weather."

Cain chuckled. "I would have brought her along, but her new tutor is settling. I don't think this one will last very long either."

This made Neil laugh as well. "You know your sister to well."

"She is… free spirited."

"Which can only be a good thing…" Neil suddenly looked troubled, his eyes had drifted back to the steaming soup in front of him.

"Uncle Neil… is… anything the matter?" Cain asked tentatively.

There was a moment's paused. "I understand a lady Dylan Sedgewell has been staying with you recently."

Again Cain laughed. "A friend of Mary's from the slums."

Neil looked worried for a moment. "Her family… what do you know of them?"

"Not much. Her father seems distant, her stepmother cares for her a lot, her step-grandmother seemed to hate her, and I know nothing of her biological mother or grandmother, except that her mother is dead. As for her siblings, she has two older brothers, two younger sisters and two younger brothers. Nothing else."

"That's not a lot."

"No," agreed Cain, "but she is not a very public person…"

"I know. She speaks very little at parties, though I was lucky enough to catch her on a talkative day a few months ago, she is very engaging, slaughtered the poor chap who tried to say that the working class should not have the vote."

Cain grinned into his glass of wine. The poor fool. He pitied anyone who tried to cross her. "Why uncle?"

Hesitating again, Neil replied, "you see… I had been doing a few background checks on Delilah… and it appears the Sedgewell name crops up a few times. Though I'm not surprised."

"Why?"

"Alfred Sedgewell, miss Dylan's father went to school with your father and I." Cain's eyes bulged. "The two were very good friends, I remember pranking the higher years and staff for years… always getting away with it too."

"Father and Count Sedgewell… that doesn't make any sense! Father's being trying to get Dylan to join for years, and she despises him."

"It makes a lot of sense… how else would Alexis found out about or to know to get her to join Delilah. There's been mention of her as well, but nothing conclusive. From what I got from the girl, Delilah would mean very little to her, she seemed passionate about her background in the slums."

'More than you know,' Cain thought dryly.

"It's worse than that, Cain," Neil warned, "it seems her stepmother is not all she appears either. There was a time when she and Alexis were involved with one another, though it was never clear… how involved they became. I knew of their contact right up to his supposed death."

The blood from Cain's face drained.

"Further more… her step-grandmother? It was not clear how it happened, but there was a close relationship between her only son and Natalie o'Toole, Dylan's mother. When it ended, we're not sure when, the boy was heart broken, he was never the same after that. I would not be surprised if the woman's hate steamed from that. As such, with her son-in-law and her daughter so closely linked with Alexis, it wouldn't surprising if she knew your father well as well.

"The entire family seems to have been involved with the Hargreaves for a very long time. Up until your father's death."

Cain frowned. "So… what little I know of my little sister's 'friend'… is a lie."

"I'm not saying that. There is just more to the girl than she has ever let on… I don't think she knows half of this."

"But if… if both her parents were involved so closely with my father… could that mean…" his face closed off as he considered the possibility quietly.

"Delilah? With her father being quite prominent… I would not put it past him."

"In that case, Dylan going home may put her in danger."

Neil shook his head. "I don't know, Cain, but this is certainly not the last we have heard from the Sedgewells… something is afoot within that family, and I know you of all people, especially for your sister's sake, will come to the bottom of it."

Cain nodded, subdued, returning to his soup almost silently.

Dylan was in danger, from her family, and possibly from herself. Yet there seemed to be nothing he could do, or would be allowed to do, to help her.

Delilah's arm seemed to reach far and wide across London… he dreaded the though of it reaching any further. Somehow, Delilah's presence felt as though it was over shadowing himself more and more. It was coming. What ever was planned… it was gaining momentum and it was coming.

Alexis stood in the study, leaning again the desk that Dylan had stolen the gun from. It had been over two weeks since she had fled, and still no answers could be found as to how.

Jezebel looked up at his father from the kneeling position at the floor, his long hair trailing on the floor beside him. His mind pondered what the card master was thinking… what would his plan be… his next move.

"Young miss Dylan is a sly character isn't she," Alexis said quietly, examining a piece of paper in his hand, "clever, manipulative and sly… I'm lucky to be immune to such traits… I possess them myself." He chuckled a little. "As does my cursed son…" there was almost a secret smile about his face.

Jezebel's blood ran cold on hearing this. As much as he hated his half brother, his love and care for Dylan over rode such emotions. What was he planning?

After her escape, Alexis had become somewhat quiet, thoughtful even. A clear sign that he was plotting. Evidently revenge.

"It's such a shame she refuses to join us," his voice was soft, almost regretful, "I do not wish to give up, on her… her contacts would be most helpful… yet I think her deadline of choice is drawing to a close. We may have to dispose of evidence…"

Jezebel kept his face impassive, yet his heart was thumping hard within his chest. He wouldn't… he couldn't… she was a child!

"Such a shame," Alexis repeated, "she is such a pretty little thing."

Looking up, he crushed the paper in his hand, fixing Jezebel with an almost angered look.

"Call our allied Sedgewells… we may need help now. Warn them to keep an eye on her. Keep her safe… not too safe of coarse- we do not need them knowing how much we need her help. We do not need her death on my hands just yet."

He laughed cruelly, walking out of the room, sweeping past the bent figure of Jezebel.

The younger man stood, glancing back at the piece of paper Alexis had just dropped. He almost started a little, then turned back. He could not let on he knew anything.

Yet as he walked out the room, following his master, the image on the paper was still in his mind. It was no paper, it was a photograph. Two children, a boy and girl. Both with hair as black as pitch, one with eerily golden green eyes, the other with impossible blue and green. The two had their arms round each other, their heads bent towards each other touching, their genuine smiles directed towards each other. They could not have been older than six or seven.

There was no mistaking their identity… but could they even remember such a meeting? Were they even aware at the time of both their parents union or understanding?

Jezebel doubted it, and he hoped it would stay that way.

The End

Maybe...


End file.
